Kidnapping a Werecub
by Polished Gem
Summary: R&R! In the LJS tradition comes the story of a Werewolf hunter's daughter. Jamie had been raised to believe that Werewolves were evil until one night when a little girl changes everything. Her father kidnaps a little Werecub, Bella Carlyle, with the plan
1. Chapter 1

Jamie Vince slammed her locker shut. The weight of the three giant textbooks resting in the crook of her arm would be enough to make most normal people strain. But she wasn't a normal person and didn't intend to become one. Her lip curled disdainfully as she took a glance at the other students traversing the hall. They spent so much of their clumsy lives looking inward, never suspecting that something else might be going on right beneath their noses.

She immediately scolded herself for the thought. It wasn't their fault that they didn't know. And besides, that's why she was here—to protect them. That is, if the Colonel would allow it, she thought with rising frustration.

A finger tapped her shoulder tentatively. She nodded inwardly, expecting as much. The girl had been hesitating nearby for the last ten minutes; so much so that Jamie had made a mental bet on whether the girl had enough guts to come up and speak to her. She slowly turned to face the shy girl, her face blank. She didn't want to encourage her. They were not going to become friends.

She had noticed the girl turn her eyes—topped by a pair of glasses—up at her in Math. Jamie had been handing the teacher a registration slip from the principal. She immediately pegged the girl as a teacher's pet. A sweet girl who had a shy demeanor: an eager-to-please. She wasn't the type of girl Jamie wanted to have tagging along. Besides, she didn't have friends. She didn't need them.

I'm Lacey," the shy girl announced, fiddling with a keychain. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the crowds of students pressing down the halls. A boy accidentally bumped her on the shoulder and she jumped out of the way nervously.

"Uh huh," Jamie responded, assuming a bored expression.

There was an awkward silence as the girl waited expectantly. According to social custom, Jamie was now supposed to offer her name. She didn't. She tried not to smirk. It was sick and disgusting to enjoy intimidating people who already had self-esteem issues. And Lacey was a prime candidate for that.

But it was all for the best. She couldn't have friends—even if she'd wanted them. Which she didn't. And Miss Goodie Two-Shoes definitely wouldn't approve of her out-of-school activities.

"And you are?" Lacey prompted. Her fiddling became more accentuated.

"Jamie," She replied succinctly.

"Oh," the girl responded brilliantly, straightening her pink top out of habit. "Well…I hope you like it at Brighton High. I guess I'll see you around."

The girl fled.

"Yeah, I'll enjoy it immensely," she muttered sarcastically. She suppressed a tiny worm of guilt. She was doing what needed to be done. She was doing what the Colonel required of her: 1) keeping to herself and 2) keeping an eye on things.

She was just turning when someone jarred her out of the way. Jamie leaped lightly in the direction the momentum carried her. She took care to land clumsily, nearly tipping into the locker as she steadieds herself. That's me, the normal girl! She thought bitterly, wincing as a tiny streak of pain shot up her ankle.

She'd seen the girl coming toward her a second before impact. Jamie could easily have jumped free of the collision, but that was strictly forbidden. She couldn't display her talents.

"Hey!" Jamie snarled, rounding on the girl. The least she could do was stand up for herself.

The girl—along with her posse of cheerleaders—stopped. The smirk was evident as the girl flicked her shoulder-length golden hair away from her face. It was streaked fashionably with pale red hues. "I'm sorry!" Her voice dripped with fake concern.

She was clearly the leader of this group. Her friends surrounded her with almost worshipful expressions. Popular today, nobody tomorrow types. They relied on his girl to keep them at the top. It didn't take a genius to see why. She was confident and beautiful, and was clearly a boy magnet.

Jamie's chin turned upward so she could stare the girl in the eye. She nearly froze as a result. Large brown eyes, clearly flecked with silver, stared back at her. It was all Jamie could do not to gasp. The girl wasn't even wearing contacts! She was either cocky or had a death wish. Jamie was going to go with cocky. The girl's type were always more careful in the cities. Out in small towns like Lampton Hill, they probably hadn't met much resistance.

Jamie couldn't back down now. It would only make the other girl suspicious.

"It's okay," Jamie replied rather gruffly without budging. "Just don't let it happen again."

She did a quick scan of the girl's friends. None of their eyes held any tell-tale silver. It was odd to see this girl mixing with humans. But smart. If someone were to turn up dead, they'd be less likely to suspect her as a culprit.

"Amber," one of her posse members cut in. "We need to get to history."

Amber nodded curtly and the group moved on.

Jamie hopped into the crowd of students moving down the hall in succession. She made sure to allow a few people to get between her and the posse. She didn't want to appear to be following them. Her ears strained for snippets of conversation. She didn't know what she expected to hear. Amber wasn't going to say anything important in front of her human friends.

Just as she expected, she caught snippets about boys and parties and who just wasn't cool anymore. The warning bell rang loudly in her ears, cutting off all conversation. Jamie was glad for it. She had no interest in their petty and superficial existences. At times in her life she had wanted to be a part of all that. To belong to something. But she was over that now.

Her eyes darted to a small bathroom as she inched along the hall to her next class. With a quick decision, she exited the mass of students and pushed through the swinging door just as the final bell rang.

Jamie smiled automatically at a girl who was applying lip gloss at a mirror and brought out her own brush. She pulled it through her straight reddish-brown hair, staring in the mirror properly. She wasn't a gorgeous girl, although she did all right for herself. She was tall with a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She had her mother's brown eyes and thin frame. Her loose t-shirts and track pants did nothing to help her appearance, but they were the best clothes to be wearing when disaster struck.

People thought her a sporty girl—and she was. They just didn't realize how sporty. The Colonel worked her hard. Martial arts, track, gymnastics, weight training, reflex training, breaking and entering training…the list marched through her head. She knew things teens shouldn't and didn't know.

Finally, the lip-gloss girl packed up her makeup bag and left, undoubtedly thinking up a rather brilliant excuse to be late for class. As soon as the door swung shut behind her, Jamie jumped into motion. She checked all the stalls to make sure she was alone.

And she was.

She rummaged through her purse, pulling free a tiny black cell phone. The Colonel had bought her the cell just for this purpose. She was the spy. She never played any active roles in his missions. He said it was for the best—seeing as she was a girl and all. She gritted her teeth just thinking about it. His sexist opinions really got her going sometimes but it was best not to argue with the Colonel. You couldn't win.

That's why she and Doug had started calling him the Colonel. It was just a childish nickname, but it had stuck. Since the day their mom had died, he had stopped being their father and had become the Colonel.

She pressed the faded button displaying the number one. All the other buttons looked brand new: barely touched. This was the speed dial to her father's cell. She lifted the phone to her ear and listened to the whine of the speed dial.

The Colonel picked up on the second ring. "Jamie," he said immediately. He wasn't one for friendly chit chat. "What do you have to report?"

"I saw one," she responded. _Nice to talk to you too_, she thought sarcastically. She wouldn't have dared say such a thing aloud. Not to the Colonel.

"I knew it!" There was a gleeful sound in his gruff voice. "I just knew there was a colony here! All the hard work's paying off! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? A whole colony!"

"We don't know that yet." Jamie dared to contradict.

"There is!" The Colonel snapped. "I know there is! Just do your work and stop complaining!"

Jamie pulled the phone away from her ear. She could still hear him clearly at arm's length. She gritted her teeth and placed the phone back on her ear. She would have argued with him if it would have made any difference. She muttered, "Whatever."

The Colonel calmed immediately. "Did you check for all the signs?"

"Not all of them," she responded. "I can't look suspicious. But I know she's one of them."

"Are you absolutely sure?" He pestered.

"Yes," Jamie sighed. She wished for once that he could just take her on face value. It wasn't as if she was an amateur. "I saw her eyes. They were half silver. Her name is Amber and I'm sure she's a werewolf."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Jamie bit into the sandwich and nearly gagged. She discretely dumped the contents of her mouth into the Ziploc bag and hid it in her lunch sack. Luckily she was only one of the few people who chose to eat their lunches out in the bleachers. It was a sticky, uncomfortable metal seat but it offered a perfect view of Amber sitting in the quad below. She wasn't surrounded with her usual posse of cheerleaders. She sat with two other boys and a dark-haired girl. Jamie had seen her with the other three on several occasions. Enough to know that each of them was a werewolf.

Jamie nearly gagged again, dumping the sandwich back into the paper sack. Corned beef. She wished she could extricate every remaining flavor molecule from her mouth. She was in the habit of making her own lunches, but much to her surprise and delight, the Colonel had offered to make it for her this morning. He only did that when he was in a really good mood. It was too bad he didn't know what she liked. She should have expected it—there had been a barrier between them for almost as long as she could remember.

She pulled out a perfectly good apple and took a bite, viewing the group beneath her. She wished she could hear what they were saying, but it wouldn't be smart to get any closer. She'd already extracted a ton of information this week. For one thing, she'd managed to follow Amber home the other day. Now her father and brother could set up surveillance around the property.

She ticked off their names in her mind: Amber Carlyle, Alec Hindley, Leigh Bennett, and Porter Maxwell. Most of them were from completely different cliques at school, but they still managed to be the best of friends. Take Leigh, for instance, Jamie thought. The dark-haired biker girl slipped out to the courtyard to sneak a smoke during classes—not because she liked them either. She only did it to look like a bad girl. This was much to Amber's chagrin, who was trying to turn Leigh into another preppy cheerleader.

Jamie turned to observe the next person in the group, Alec Hindley. He was Amber's boy friend and the only one of the four who wore contacts. He was probably one of the best-looking guys in school with his dark laughing eyes and his broad shoulders. Apparently he was the best quarterback Brighton High had ever seen. This was no surprise. Werewolves were amazing athletes, among other things.

The last person in the group was the hardest to peg, and Jamie prided herself on being a good observer. Porter Maxwell had a healthy build, although it was slighter than Alec's. She had a good view of him from English class starting with his shock of sandy hair followed by the nape of his tanned neck. If he turned, she caught sight of deep blue eyes. The speckles of silver were so tiny, they were almost impossible notice. Jamie had purposefully bumped into him earlier that week, just to get a look at them.

She nearly shivered, as he happened to look up and cast his eyes in her direction. She took another bite of her apple and pretended to be oblivious to his gaze. She moved uncomfortably, her rough metal seat etching marks in her backside. Porter was the one who scared her most. He was so observant, his senses so heightened. At times she almost thought he could smell her thoughts—but that was impossible. Ridiculous. She wasn't going to give into such foolish fantasies.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Porter standing smoothly. His movements were perfect, each muscle contracting and releasing to exact perfection. If someone were to attack Porter just then, in his seemingly casual manner, he could tear him limb from limb. He moved over toward the bleachers calmly.

Jamie's heart thundered in her chest. He was coming up to her. Pretending she hadn't noticed his assent, she dumped the half-eaten apple in her bag. She jumped to her feet and walked quickly away. Or as quickly as she could manage without arousing suspicion. When she was a discrete distance off, she was finally able to slow her breathing, which was entering and leaving her body deceivingly quick.

She wondered about him for the rest of the afternoon. What was he doing? Why had he tried to come to her? Could he really read her thoughts? She shuddered.

But of course he couldn't read her thoughts or he would have killed her on the spot. Or dragged her to a secluded corner and then killed her. A horrible vision filled her mind. A vision of being eaten. Like her mother was eaten.

Her father had never been the same since. He was driven by the need to destroy every single last werewolf in existence. And why should she stop him? They were evil. Every single last one of them. It was their duty to protect humans from the werewolves.

By the time school had ended, dark thunderclouds had covered the sky coinciding with her dark thoughts. She jogged the two miles to their secluded home, just a half a mile outside town. It was a good jog. She stretched her legs to their limits, pounding her feet against the asphalt. Her breath moved in and outside of her evenly. It was the most wonderful feeling just to be free and to forget her life. She knew it couldn't last. By the time she was nearly home, she could feel the weight hanging over her. It would settle onto her shoulders the moment she stepped through the front door.

She rested on the front lawn, leaning her back into the spiky grass as tiny droplets began to patter on her forehead. It was a large lot, although relatively unkempt and secluded. It was the perfect place for the Colonel to set up shop and the rent was cheap. Since the Colonel had retired from the military five years before, they had been free to move about as the Colonel pleased—and the Colonel moved them around more than the military had. Jamie was used to it but she suspected Doug didn't take it so well. He wanted to settle down and go to college and get a real job. He was twenty-three now, a good six years older than Jamie.

But the Colonel held on to him like iron. He said he needed Doug to keep the operations going. It was true that the Colonel wasn't as young as he used to be. He had a good fifty-seven years behind him. Maybe it was about time he retire from fighting the 'wolves too. But the Colonel wouldn't consider this. He would be fighting werewolves until he met his grave. It was his promise to his wife as the life had slipped from her eyes.

Jamie sighed and sat up. The droplets were coming down harder now, plastering her hair to the sides of her face. She turned to view the decrepit brick building that would be her home for the next few months. She had a vivid memory of the mildew smell that had reached her nostrils the first moment she stepped into the house.

With a heavy heart she turned and walked to the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

Jamie kept her shoes on. She knew the Colonel hated it, but she was disgusted to think what had been dropped on the hardwood floors over the years. Even after giving the floors a good, bleach-covered scrubbing last week, she still couldn't get the thought out of her mind.

The Colonel and Doug were deliberating quietly at the table. Sheaves of paper were strewn everywhere, holding elaborate drawings and plans. Their whispers were excited, full of anticipation…well, at least the Colonel's were. If she really took a look at Doug, she could see the weariness in his dark eyes and drawn face. This wasn't good for him, she thought. He's just seen so much blood. So much pain. Like warriors who come back from battle and are never the same again.

She plopped down in the seat across from Doug and picked up a few nonsensical drawings. She had never been able to look at her father's plans and make something out of them. She suspected that the Colonel did it on purpose. If a good set of drawings were ever to be found, he could be liable for a rash of murders longer than Jamie had time to count. People just didn't realize that the werewolves were among them, hunting them down one by one.

"So what are the plans?" she interrupted her father.

He gave her an irritated glance before continuing to Doug. "The old Hanson place would be good. It's just another mile out of town. Nobody's lived there in over fifteen years, or so I've heard. It's falling apart, but it would be perfect for our purposes."

"But dad," Doug cut in, "I heard the high school kids like to sneak out there to have wild parties. We could never get away with it!"

"Yes we could!" The Colonel's voice rose an octave, his hands gesturing erratically as he tried to prove his point. "Look what time of year it is! It will be too cold out for parties by the time we've got this set up. It's nearly November already!"

"Calm down," Doug tried soothingly.

"I am calm!" The Colonel cried out. "Why can't you just listen to me!"

Doug's mouth snapped shut. He nearly cowered from the Colonel's outburst, something he never would have done if anyone else had spoken to him that way. Jamie kicked her brother's foot under the table and when he finally looked up at her she sent him a sympathetic glance.

"So we'll send out the ransom notes next week," the Colonel continued, his pitch having returned to normal. "We'll just give them enough time to worry and fret before we hit them with a real punch."

"Ransom note?" Jamie latched onto the word as she looked back and forth between her Doug and her father.

"Yes, Ransom note! Can't you hear what I'm saying? Are you deaf?" The Colonel turned to her with a snarl. Then he added, "We'll make them bring all the werewolves in town. The whole colony, to the Hanson house. The colony's not as big as I thought it would be, so I'm sure they'll all fit. In the ransom, we'll call it a way to peg who our enemies are. Well ask them to leave a ransom of one million dollars in return for our hostage. We can give them three weeks to raise the money. We'll tie the hostage to that pole in the center of the Hansen house. Once the colony is within the building, then boom!"

The Colonel laughed. "They won't even see it coming! Who would expect us to blow up the million dollars too!"

Jamie swallowed slowly, assessing the idea. It seemed so strange to her, to think of her father killing so many people at once. Not people, she corrected herself, werewolves. They looked so human that sometimes the boundaries felt a little hazy, but she must never forget how evil they were. Still, something felt weird about the plan. She was used to her father picking them off one by one.

The Colonel laughed again, suddenly squeezing her hand. "It's all going to work. All because of you!"

"Me?" Jamie swallowed. "Why?"  
"Because you managed to follow that girl home yesterday. Because you managed to find out where her house was."

"Amber?" She asked, remembering how sneaky she'd felt, keeping just out of sniffing distance. She'd stepped as silently as a cat, and above all, she'd kept track of the direction the wind was blowing. If it had changed even a few degrees, Amber could have caught her scent. "Did you kidnap her mother?"

Doug sent her a crooked grin. "No? Would you like to see the hostage?"

Slowly, she nodded.

Doug scraped his chair backward and stood. She followed him out into the shadowy entrance, just out of the Colonel's earshot. She gripped Doug's arm and turned him to face her. "What's wrong?" She asked in soft tones.

He pulled her hand away from his arm.

"No, Doug. What's going on?"

Doug sighed and finally looked her in the face. "I asked dad if I could leave next year. I told him that I really want to go to college. He said I could leave in five years, but he promised the same thing five years ago!"

Jamie looked at him and said the hardest thing in her life. "Then just go. Just leave, Doug. Dad is never going to say yes. You're going to have to stand up for yourself sometime."

She knew what it would be like when Doug was gone. It would be the Colonel and she. She'd have no break from his death-obsessed life, his single-minded goals. And she'd always have to be the spy, never getting the chance to play an integral role.

His eyes widened. "I can't just up and go!" He countered. "You know dad!"

"He's more bark than bite," Jamie said although she didn't really believe it.

"You don't know that," Doug replied darkly. "You haven't seen him in a fight with a werewolf—"

He broke off at the look on her face. "Jamie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rub it in. I know it's not fair that dad doesn't let you go…but believe me, it's for the best. You don't know what it's like to kill things that look like humans. That act like humans." He shuddered. "Sometimes I feel like a murderer."

"But they're not like us," Jamie countered, trying to pull the dark thoughts from his mind. "They're evil. They're killers."

Doug nodded and handed her a flashlight. He took his shoes out of the closet and stuffed them on his feet.

"The hostage is outside?" She asked incredulously as she listened to the sound of the rain pattering on the side of the house.

Doug shook his head and jutted his chin in the direction of the basement. He tied us his laces as he spoke. "No, she's in the basement. I just didn't want to walk downstairs in my bare feet. It's disgusting down there."

Jamie nodded, taking note of the cobwebs hanging in the upper corner of the door. She turned on the flashlight and trained it on the old rickety stairs. She'd never been in the basement before. It smelled so dank and musty. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Glad to have a snug pair of sneakers on her feet, she began to descend down the stairs. They groaned audibly, dipping slightly with her weight.

"So you kidnapped Amber?" she asked as she navigated the stairs.

"No," Doug replied from right behind her. "You'll see."

She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner, a long dark hallway stood in front of her. She was glad for the flashlight as she nearly stepped into a hanging cobweb. What must it be like to have a werewolf's night vision, she wondered as she ducked beneath it?

Granules of dirk scraped beneath her feet. "You weren't kidding when you said it was dirty down here," she commented.

A small whimpering started up further down the hall. Small, soft whimpers. It almost sounded like a child. She supposed most people would sound like that when they were afraid.

As she moved ahead, she realized that it wasn't one long continuous hallway. The dark hall opened up into a wide room. The whimpering came from the left corner. The flashlight beam slid along the grimy floor to a moth-eaten mattress. The beam just caught sight of two tiny white sneakers followed by tightly bound ankles.

Jamie's hand froze as her heart began to quicken. I can look; I can see this, she told herself. To her amazement, her hand was trembling. The beam shook back and forth over the designer jeans with a picture of Barbie sewn into the pant leg. Finally, she was able to steady her hand.

She took a deep breath and flashed the light over a tiny pink "My Little Pony" sweater to a face. Wide tearful eyes stared back at her.

Jamie gasped.

"She's only a kid!" She finally managed to choke out.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"She's only a kid!" She repeated, turning to her brother with an accusing glance. "She can't be more than seven!"

Doug's face was closed off. Emotionless. "Well, it's like you said," he told her, repeating her words back to her. "They're evil. They're killers. _All_ of them."

Right then she wanted to strangle her brother. It was a good thing she was holding the flashlight just then. If he had seen the red, murderous rage that crossed her face just then she would never have forgiven herself. The pitch darkness protected her from hurting him—from letting him know what she thought of him just then.

Of course he was closed off. No one could commit such an act and live with himself without closing off. This was the Colonel's doing. How could he kidnap a child? She knew what the Colonel would say if she accused him. He'd say she was getting too soft—losing sight of her one goal. He'd say the schoolteachers were corrupting her.

"There's only one cause, Jamie," he'd told her the night her mother died. "One fight. We have to kill the werewolves. All of them."

Jamie felt her anger draining away. "Yeah," she admitted, "I did say that."

She trained the flashlight back on the little girl, on her fluff of white blond hair and her tear-stained cheeks. The child's eyes flashed silver in the light before she turned her head away, hiding her eyes from the bright light.

"Has she been fed?" she asked.

"What?" Doug began. "Well, no."

"Well go get some food," Jamie instructed. "She can't live here for a month if you don't feed her."

As soon as her brother had left, she took another tentative step toward the girl. The child drew back from her. She continued to move forward until she was three feet away from the mattress. She sat down on the dirt-strewn floor as a gesture of peace.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said gently, training the light just below the girl's face so that she wouldn't hurt her eyes.

The girl didn't respond. She just sniffled.

Jamie could see the werewolf in her already. The nicely trained muscles just below her soft child-like skin. Her eyes shone almost pure silver…but she wasn't _evil._ She was just a child.

But she'll become evil, her mind whispered. She'll become a killer. It's inevitable. It's in her nature.

But she's not one now! How can we kill her for what she will become?

Jamie turned the flashlight on the girl's hands bound tightly behind her back. So tightly, in fact, that her hands had become pale, virtually bloodless. Jamie swallowed sickly. And the Colonel had tied her hands _behind_ her back. It was a cruel thing to do to a werecub. When the child tried to change, she'd break both arms. Of course, they'd heal almost instantly, but it would hurt. Bad.

She moved toward the girl again and the child whimpered.

"It's okay," she whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to untie you. You need to get some circulation back in your hands."

The child looked as though she didn't understand, but she didn't have any further to retreat. Jamie turned her on her back and took a shot at untying the cords. The knots were tight. It felt like she was working on them for hours, but it wasn't likely more than a few minutes. Luckily, her nails were long enough to aid in her struggle. Finally, the cord fell away onto the ratty mattress.

The child reared up suddenly, her mouth racing for Jamie's bare arm. She had a split second to react. She propelled herself backward, her feet using the springy mattress as leverage. She landed in a crouch a couple feet away.

The child's teeth had nearly grazed her skin. Jamie sighed in relief. Werewolves had venom sacs just above the roofs of their mouths. If the child had managed to open a wound and pump some into her skin, she would have become a werewolf.

Feet pattered against the cement floor in the hall behind her. "What did you do?" Doug demanded.

"I took the cord off her wrists," Jamie responded calmly. "Her hands were practically dead."

Doug snorted. "And look how she repays you."

"She's scared," Jamie found herself defending the werecub. "What would you do in her position?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. I've never been one of them. Thank God."

He dumped the food he was carrying to the floor and unsheathed a silver dagger concealed in his pant leg. He brandished it before the whimpering girl, making Jamie cringe. "Now I don't want anymore trouble," he warned.

She cowered.

Doug picked up the girl by the back of her shirt, taking care to keep his hands away from her mouth. He brought her to the center of the room where a pole was helping to keep the second floor in place. He took out another length of rope and proceeded to tie her waist and the pole together. In moments, she was securely trussed.

"There," he said. "Now you can use your hands to eat. That way I don't have to get near your mouth."

He picked up a bag of orange sticks and placed them in front of her.

"Carrots?" Jamie asked incredulously. "Don't we have any meat? There's no nutritional value in carrots for her."

"Why don't you go look in the fridge?" Doug muttered grumpily. "The only thing else I could find was some orange juice, moldy cheese, and some Mr. Chen take-out that's been in there for a week."

"I guess that means we're ordering again tonight."

"Dad always forgets to shop when he's on a roll," Doug replied.

Jamie nodded and sat cross-legged before the girl. She picked up a carrot and held it before the girl's mouth. The child eyed it with distaste.

"Watch your fingers," Doug warned.

Finally, the child took a small, tentative bite. She chewed it thoughtfully for a moment before an awful expression crossed her face. She managed to swallow it down before she gagged.

"Doug!" The Colonel bellowed down the stairs. "I need you to buy all the stuff for the explosives! And make sure you buy a big chunk of silver!"

"I'm coming!" Doug called.

"And be discrete about it!"

"Aren't I always?" Doug called back. He turned to Jamie before he left. "I'll buy some takeout too."

"I don't suppose they'll sell the chicken to you raw," Jamie muttered.

Doug snorted and hurried up the stairs.

She called after him, but he was already gone. She heard tires squealing out of the driveway. She was going to ask him to buy some raw meat from the supermarket.

She held up the half-eaten carrot before the girl. "Come on," she urged. "It'll make your stomach feel full."

The child shook her head vigorously, speaking for the first time. "I don't like it."

Jamie sighed, letting the carrot drop to the dirt-strewn floor. "Oh God," she muttered, staring up at a ceiling she couldn't see. After all she'd done, no God would help her. Her voice caught as she added. "What have we done to you? God, I'm so sorry!"

She could feel her eyes filling. How had things turned so bad so fast? She had only followed a girl home from school one day. And now this? What did she do to deserve this? A tear spilled over onto her cheek.

The child watched her silently. Jamie had placed the flashlight between them so that both their faces were illuminated.

The child said something unexpected. "My name's Bella. What's your name?"

Jamie broke cardinal rule as she wiped her cheek. "I'm Jamie."

"You're not like them." The girl spoke so simply, so trustingly. As only a child would. "Can you untie me?"

Just when she thought she was in control, her voice cracked again. "I wish I could. I really do."

"What are they going to do to me?" Bella asked.

Jamie didn't have an answer for that one. She couldn't tell the child they planned to kill her.

"They're going to hurt me, aren't they?" the child sniffled. She didn't need Jamie to reply. "Please untie me."

"There's nothing you can do," Jamie said. "If I untie you, the Colonel will catch you before you even leave the house."

"Then you can help me get away," Bella said.

"How old are you?" Jamie asked suddenly, watching the tiny child.

"Seven," Bella responded proudly. "I'll be eight next month."

"Seven," Jamie mused. Clarity struck her then. She knew what she had to do. It was the only right thing to do. Even if the child grew to be a notorious killer. "Yes, I'll help you escape. But not tonight. We got to wait for the right moment or it won't work."

"You're not going to leave me are you?" Bella asked suddenly, her lip trembling. "I don't want to be alone."

Jamie suddenly reached out and wiped some stray tears from Bella's face. For some reason, she was no longer afraid the child would bite her. Bella's stomach grumbled loudly.

"We have to find you something to eat," she muttered.

The girl nodded. "I'm really hungry."

Jamie placed the flashlight into the girl's hands. "You keep this," she instructed, "until I come back. I'm going to get you some food, even if I have to walk the whole way."

The girl nodded stoutly, trying to be brave. She wasn't quite managing it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

Jamie pulled the jacket over her shoulders and zipped it up, tightly. The Colonel's feet hit the floor as he strode up behind her. She didn't dare turn. Her puffy cheeks, streaked with dried tears, would betray her.

"Where are you going?" The Colonel asked.

"Out," she replied her back to him. She placed a hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to buy some raw meat from the supermarket. She'll need it."

The Colonel took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him, taking note of her streaked cheeks. She stared back unwaveringly at his blunt nose and his grim mouth set in a white line. From the moment she looked him in the eyes, she knew there was no lying to him. He knew what was going through her head. He could sniff uncertainty a mile away.

The Colonel lifted his cell for her to see. "I'll call Doug and he'll bring some."

She nodded, biting her lip. She should have thought of that, but her brain was too frazzled to work properly.

"Now I want you," the Colonel instructed, "to go outside and take a long run. It will help you clear your head."

She nodded. She knew she shouldn't abandon Bella but it would be so good to get away. She would be leaving Bella alone with her father. Alone with his unquenchable hate. But he wouldn't harm her. He had a plan to carry out and hostages must not be harmed. She took a deep shuddering breath.

"And when you get back," the Colonel continued, staring her right in the eye. "I want your eye to be single to the cause. Let the rain wash away your doubts. I don't want to see one single doubt, you understand? Don't lose sight of your goal for one child's pleading face. Think of what she'll become."

Jamie bolted. She took off out the door at a speedy pace. She didn't take the chance to work her way up to speed. She pumped her feet as fast as they could move, the balls of her feet pistoning against the glistening asphalt. She could almost feel the blood pumping through her veins. Her throat was becoming raw from her thundering breath.

She just gave her mind over to the run, living on sensation alone. The rain drenched her t-shirt and plastered her hair to her scalp like glue. She'd nearly reached town by the time she allowed herself to slow.

She knew it was time to go back. Her mind was single, just as the Colonel had asked. It just wasn't single the way he expected her to be. She had one goal in her mind: she had to protect Bella from harm.

Her ear caught the purr of a motor. An old gray car was driving out from town. It's ancient breaks squealed to a halt. A boy stuck his head out the window, sniffing the rain-scented air. Jamie caught sight of the sandy head, darkened by oncoming drops. He frowned, opening the car door. He got out and sniffed the air.

"What do you smell?" A girl called from the car. Amber's voice.

Jamie wished she had a place to hide. She felt exposed, shivering in the rain. She was surprised that they had been able to follow Bella's scent this far. That's what they were doing. She was sure of it.

The rain should have washed away almost every single trace. Porter clearly had a better nose than she had bargained for.

The boy regarded Jamie carefully as he spoke into the car. "I can't catch her trace anymore. It's too faint."

Amber swore and jumped out from the vehicle, followed by Alec and Leigh. They all tried to sniff the air, but apparently, their senses of smell weren't acute enough. Porter strode toward Jamie slowly.

Jamie stood firmly planted. She moved her feet apart slightly, ready to spring in any direction if the situation warranted. She did so casually, with a hesitant smile.

Porter nodded to her, stalling only a few feet from her. "Hey," he greeted her. "You're from our school, aren't you? What are you doing out here?"

"Just taking a run," she managed with a nod. She was glad her voice didn't betray her as it threatened to wobble in her throat.

"We were just looking for someone," Porter explained to her, his eyes glinting with speckles of silver. "Amber's little sister. You haven't seen her have—"

His voice broke with an intake of breath. His eyes flared up as her scent filled his nostrils. Quick as lightening, an exchange passed through the group. It was as if they could smell Porter getting ready for attack. Doug had spoken of things like this, but it was Jamie's first time experiencing it for herself.

She clenched her fists at her side and waited for the onrush. She knew instinctively that she couldn't win. It was four against one. And if she was going to die, she was going to bring about as much havoc as possible during the process.

The 'wolves had surrounded her within moments. They circled with animal grace, feral expressions glinting across their faces. Jamie immediately pegged Amber as the weakest link.

Jamie caught the signal between them as they planned to pounce. With a twist she turned and lunged at Amber as the group turned on her. Amber fell backward; Jamie's knees digging into her stomach. She jumped to her feet and took off at a run. Her only hope was to make it to town and find a group of people. They wouldn't dare attack in front of a large group.

She didn't make it. They were just too fast.

Something hard and heavy slammed into her back, pushing her off balance. She fell, her cheek scraping asphalt. She could taste blood in her mouth.

"Would somebody grab me some rope?" Alec called from his seat atop her struggling form. His knee dug into her spine painfully.

"What, like I keep rope in my car?" Amber complained, swearing. "The little tramp hurt me! I've got cuts all over my arms!"

Leigh snorted and imitated Amber's valley voice. "Like they won't be gone in two seconds, anyway."

There was the sound of a scuffle as the to girls pushed each other about playfully. Then there was a swish right near Jamie's ear, like a belt being unthreaded. The belt buckle jingled softly. Then her wrists were being trussed up tightly.

The weight was removed from her back and Alec pulled her roughly to her feet, turning her to face the other three. Their eyes glinted in a feral manner, their faces glistening with the joy of a hunt. It sickened her. She wanted to close her eyes, to remove their evil gazes from her mind. She was surprised that she was still alive.

"Now, do you want to tell me why we attacked her?" Alec asked Porter, who was leaning against the car door, a troubled expression crossing his face.

"I could smell Bella on her. Bella's tears on her hands."

Amber's face turned livid. She stepped up to Jamie and slapped her across the face. Jamie's cheek stung and she could imagine a handprint was etched into her face.

"If you've harmed her," she hissed, "If you've touched one hair on her head, you'll wish you were dead."

Porter and Leigh moved closer and Alec's grip tightened on her arms.

"Tell us where she is," Porter said softly, the most self-controlled of the group. "Take us to her and we'll let you go. No one will hurt you."

A fine promise, coming from one of his kind, Jamie thought sarcastically. If she brought them to her father, they'd kill him. And her brother, Doug, as well. No, she couldn't do that.

"Let me go," she offered, "And I'll bring her to you."

Amber lifted her hand for another slap, but Porter caught her wrist. "Liar!" she nearly screamed. "Take us to her! Take us to her right now!"

"Hush, baby," Alec comforted from behind Jamie. "We'll get her back."

Amber didn't look like she was ready to hush, and Jamie couldn't blame her. If someone had taken her brother under these circumstances, she would have been absolutely furious. And Doug wasn't even a child.

"I'm not taking you there," Jamie responded stoutly. "No matter what you do to me, so you might as well give up. I can get her for you, but only if you let me go alone."

Alec snorted in her ear. "We're not that clueless, princess."

A pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Alec dragged her quickly into the car, dumping her into the backseat. He shoved her into the leg space. Leigh jumped into the backseat, placing her feet firmly on the small of Jamie's back. She tried to rear up and attract attention, but the feet held her firmly in place.

She wanted to yell. Or scream. Or cry. Anything to get the passing car to take notice, but none of it would make a difference. The car passed without incident. The hum of its engine disappeared into the distance.

"We need to find a safe place to interrogate her," Porter said.

"What about my father's shop?" Amber suggested.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

Amber fished for a key in her pocket, looking about the deserted street with a furtive glance. The street was dark and lonely. Her hand shook slightly as she placed the key in the lock. Jamie noted the werewolf's nervousness with satisfaction and filed it away for later use. She might be able to use this to her advantage. The four didn't want to get caught kidnapping a fellow classmate.

They directed her into the drug store. They moved passed rows of shelves to the back of the store. The pharmacy countertop gleamed in the dim lights. There was a small door, which they used to get behind the counter. Leigh touched the bottles of medicine in the cubbyholes with paperwork.

"Hmm," Leigh said with a chuckle, tossing her long black hair behind her shoulders. Her body was sheathed in leather, all the way from her black leather jacket to her tight leather pants. "Which ones of these could we use on her? Or better yet," she added with a glint, "which ones could we use on me?"

Amber slapped one of Leigh's hands that was reaching toward a medicine bottle. "Don't touch anything," she chided. "Those are tomorrow's orders. Dad'll notice if anything goes missing."

Leigh let out a sigh.

"Besides," Amber added, "One of these days you're really going to hurt yourself. Don't play with drugs."

Alec smiled tolerantly and Porter only shook his head, directing Jamie through another set of doors. She found herself in a tiny staff room with two brown couches that must have come out of the eighties. They were hideous.

Porter reached out to touch her, but stopped. A blush creeped over his cheeks. "Amber," he suggested. "Why don't you search her?"

Amber was a like a prison-warden over the whole matter. She ripped Jamie's keys from her pocket, along with her wallet, tossing them onto the couch. Alec picked the wallet up, curiously. He took out the driver's license and peered at it. "Jamie Roberta Vince. You're seventeen years old. You're 5'8"" he continued, "and a 130 lbs."

Jamie glared at him as he continued to search through her wallet.

Amber pulled the silver dagger from its hiding place in her pant leg. She handed it to Leigh, who brandished it with a contemplative glance. The dark-haired girl slid her finger along the surface, taking care to keep her fingers away from the sharp edge. Silver cuts took time to heal.

"So she knows about us," Leigh said to the group. "She knows what we are."

The boys were standing perfectly still, their eyes transfixed on the blade. Porter's eyes rose to Jamie's face in disbelief. She supposed none of them had ever met a werewolf hunter before.

"I found one more thing," Amber announced, holding the cell phone high. She opened it up to display the numbers. "Quite an antique," she mentioned and added disdainfully. "Can't mommy and daddy afford any better than this?"

Leigh took the dagger and set it up in a cupboard, as if the sight of it revolted her.

"And look at this," Amber continued, "The number one is practically worn off. It must be a speed dial."

She waved the phone in front of Jamie's face. "Who does it call?"

Jamie just sent her a dark look. She didn't have to answer the girl.

Porter stood from his seat on the disgustingly brown couch. He moved to stand just in front of her. "Who does it call, Jamie?"

Something was so soothing about his voice. She knew she shouldn't reply, but she did anyway. Jamie sighed. "My dad. It calls my dad."

"And does your dad know where Bella is?"

She just shrugged.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes unnervingly bright and knowing. It was as if he was ripping the answers from her head. But he wasn't. He couldn't read her mind. She knew that now. He was just too observant for his own good.

"I see," he said after a long pause, running a hand through his sandy hair. He held out his other hand toward Amber. "May I see the phone?"

Amber passed it to him. "Put it on speaker. We want to hear too."

He did as she asked, dialing the number one button. Leigh and Alec crowded closer in anticipation. The phone rang three times before the Colonel's voice came bellowing out of the phone. "Jamie? Where are you? When I said to take a run I meant a short one! We have plans to make!"

Jamie didn't reply. Porter beat her to it.

"Mr. Vince?" He said in a loud and confident voice.

"Who is this?" The Colonel bellowed. "What are you doing with my daughter's phone? I told Jamie she wasn't allowed to have boyfriends, so just you think about that before you try to hook up with my daughter."

"Mr. Vince," Porter continued once her father had said his piece. "We have your daughter and we know you have Bella. We're willing to make a trade."

The phone was silent for a moment before her father continued, "No, I don't think I want to do that."

Alec added in an in a grating voice, leaning over Porter's shoulder. "We'll kill her."

The phone was silent again and Jamie closed her eyes. She felt an icy shiver race up her spine at Alec's words. She crossed her fingers as she waited impatiently for her father's reply. Just do it, dad, she thought pleadingly. Then Bella would be safe and so would she. That's all that mattered.

"No trade," the Colonel replied finally, emotionlessly. "There are some losses you have to take for the greater good."

The four werewolves stared between Jamie and the phone dubiously. Congratulations, dad, she thought bitterly. You managed to stump them. She didn't know why she had expected any differently. It was all about destroying the 'wolves—never mind her. She might as well have died along with her mother, then he actually might have loved her.

"I'll call you within a week's time with my terms," The Colonel finished. The phone clicked dead.

"Well," she feigned a smile, involuntarily switching to a bitter grimace. Knots twisted in her stomach. "What did you expect?"

Porter pulled a hand through his hair, helplessly. "Why do you hunt us?" He asked finally. "Why us, when the evil is in your own backyard."

He was good, she thought. Very good. For a moment she almost wanted to believe Porter had a heart.

She snorted. "Don't tell me you've never hunted a human before."

She nodded with sick glee as the four werewolves looked at each other wordlessly. They had no answer for that one.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

Amber lifted a cell from her purse and began to dial a number.

"Who are you calling?" Alec asked a little gruffly.

"My parents," she responded, lifting the phone to her ear. "We can't deal with this on our own. We need the adult's help."

He shrugged cockily, as if it were a minor insult to his capabilities. "I could handle it. It's just one family."

He turned to look at Porter as he said this, a challenging glint in his eyes. Porter slumped back in his seat in exasperation. Leigh snorted derisively and Amber ignored the comment altogether. Jamie didn't know what to make of the exchange and did particularly care. Now that she was sitting on the sofa, her hands were hidden from view, she could work on the belt binding her wrists.

"Hi, mom?" Amber began. "No, we haven't found her yet. Listen, I have something to tell you…"

As Amber talked on the phone the other three set out a game of scrabble on the floor. Judging by the size the words they were creating, their heart wasn't into it. Jamie watched over Alec's shoulder as her hands twisted behind her back. Alec was proving to be an excellent knotsman. Alec studied his letters carefully, and began to place the word down on the board.

"No!" Jamie couldn't help but interrupt. "You have the word wonderful with a triple letter score on the f."

"Who asked you?" Alec responded rudely and proceeded to place down the word wonderful.

"Nice," Porter commented. He patted the seat behind him. "Since Alec doesn't seem to want you, you can sit behind me."

"Stealing from me again?" Alec responded with mock surprise.

Porter's response was anything but joking. He said quietly, "I have never stolen anything from you. I haven't even tried."

Amber snapped the phone shut then and said, "My parents are on the way. Actually, all our parents are on the way."

They all nodded in relief, including Alec.

"And," Amber continued, her eyes sliding to Jamie. "They want us to bite her."

Jamie's eyes flared wide and she jumped to her feet. Her heart had never quickened quite so fast before. She hopped to the side, keeping the wall to her back. She silently cursed as she struggled to free her hands.

"Don't touch me!" She declared. "Don't you dare!"

Leigh chuckled. "It would be the perfect punishment, wouldn't it? She might think twice before hunting werewolves—if she were one."

Alec scoffed. "And then look what we'd have on our hands. She's bad enough as a human."

"Having a problem with one werewolf?" Porter asked. "I thought you could take on her whole family; no problem."

Porter's mouth snapped shut as Alec turned a glare on him. He looked as though he regretted the jibe.

"I don't have a problem with her," Alec grated, getting to his feet in one fluid motion. He stalked toward her with a feral light in his eyes. "Human or werewolf. I'll prove it to you."

Life sucks when you've got your hands tied behind your back and an angry werewolf following you pace for pace, Jamie thought. He was trying to crowd her into a corner through intimidation. He kept moving closer and if she didn't step away he'd catch her in his steel grip.

She didn't have much to work with. She couldn't use her arms for balance so she had to rely on perfect stance. She had two fighting tools: her teeth and her feet. She decided her feet would be much more effective.

This had all happened within a split second and she had about that much time to bring her plan into effect. If she didn't act now, then it was all over for her. She tried not to think about the other 'wolves in the room. She'd worry about them when the time came.

As he crowded closer, she made a move as if to back away. Halfway through the step, she twisted to the side. Her foot lunged forward with the weight of her whole body. Her foot drove into a place where no guy likes to be kicked. And hard too.

He doubled over slightly, wincing.

Before he got the chance to get his game back, she caught him in the back of the knee and pulled forward. He sprawled on his back. His breath exploded from his lungs. She moved for him again. He wasn't out of commission yet.

She didn't get the chance to put him out of commission because suddenly Leigh and Porter were holding her with a grip like iron.

"Wait! Wait!" Amber was waving her hands wildly, trying to get everyone's attention. "Not a full bite! An information bite!"

Alec got to his feet, his movement less fluid but still formidable. His normally laughing eyes burned like hot coals. He had eyes only for her when he said. "I already hated you," he stated lividly. "Don't push me. You do one more thing and I'll make you wish you weren't born."

"Simmer down, city boy," Porter tried in a soothing voice.

"And you!" Alec snapped, pointing a finger at Porter. "You stay out of this."

Amber moved over to Alec, draping her arm about his shoulders. Slowly, his tensed form softened to lean into hers. She threaded her long tapered nails into his curly dark hair. Her blond head drooped onto his shoulder.

"Did you want to give her the information bite?" She asked.

Alec shook his head distastefully. "No. She wouldn't taste good anyway. She's too tough; all muscle and bone."

"What about you?" Porter asked Leigh.

She shook her head vigorously. "Do I look like I want to know what goes on in that sick head of hers? You never know how many 'wolves she's murdered. I'd rather watch from a distance."

A total number of zero, Jamie thought to herself numbly. She could hardly believe they were deciding who was going to bite her. And what was an information bite, anyway?

"Amber? What about you?"

Amber shook her head. "She took my sister," she said with a sick gulp. "If I see what's in her head…I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself. I'd kill her."

"I guess that leaves me," Porter said with a grimace, one of his hands still tightly entwined around her arm.

He turned to face her directly. He clamped one hand on each of her shoulders, gently but firmly. His eyes were like dark pools of blue, speckled with silver moonlight. He pushed her backward until her shoulder blades connected with the wall.

He wasn't rash like Alec. He moved slowly and surely toward his goal. He watched her every muscle, contemplating her next move. There was nothing she could do to stop him. She could delay him a little, but eventually he would win.

Jamie said one word: "Don't."

"I'm sorry," he replied, "but you don't have a choice."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

His mouth moved to her neck, the way the vampires did in all the movies. The only difference was that vampires only had two pointies while he had a whole set of them. He didn't transform all the way to wolf. He controlled the change carefully. In one instant, his teeth went from normal human teeth to sharp, slicing points. He stopped the change there.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the hot breath on her throat. Then, before she could cringe, he struck. As he removed his teeth from her, the air drifted over the open wounds, making them sting. His tongue flicked over the incisions, abating the sting a little.

The werewolf saliva began to work its way down into her bloodstream. It made her weak and helpless, nearly freezing her limbs. She could hardly move at all. If she hadn't been so terrified she would have felt almost languid.

His teeth moved back into the incisions and he began to expel the poison from his venom sacs. A type of venom that would move through her body, destroying what was most human about her cells. It would slowly revert her cells to lycanthropic ones.

This is it, she thought, her stomach sinking. They've lied to me. I'm going to pass out and when I wake up, I'll be a werewolf. But she didn't pass out. She almost wished she could as the minutes ticked by and she heard the drone of the others talking in the background. They seemed to have completely forgotten about Porter and Jamie.

She wanted it to hurt more, so that she could hate it. But the saliva was working on the open wounds until they no longer stung. She wanted to hate herself for feeling so peaceful and calm. And Porter wasn't helping by being so gentle.

In one moment, everything changed. The world began to sparkle with a whole new color. She could smell Amber's fear, Alec's anger, and Leigh's disgust. But most of all she could smell Porter's worry. It was like a blazing beacon. He was standing too close, so close that she couldn't block him out. She wanted push out that worry that was clawing at her mind; because the more it washed over her, the more it became her worry.

She realized that it wasn't just smell. She was feeling their emotions.

So this is how it was for them, she realized. This was how they all moved in one accord—as a pack. Without this, their hunts would be so uncoordinated. Nothing could ever get done so well. This is why they had attacked her on the road into town. One emotion from Porter and they were all in attack mode.

She realized that Porter was sniffing out her emotions as well. That's why it was an information bite. He was extracting emotions from her mind. But how would that help him? All he could feel was her fear of being bit and her protective feelings for Bella, for her brother…and her dad. She hated to admit it, but the feeling rose up on her, unquenchable. He might never love her, but she would always love him.

Images suddenly lit up before her closed eyes. Porter at five-years-old, finally getting the training wheels off of his bike. A boy a little older, sneaking out the back porch to meet Amber and Leigh in the woods for scary stories. A boy, fondly cuddling a cat to his belly. Sharing a Christmas moment with his parents. Competing in math tournaments with his human friends. Rolling up with a good book. Alec moving in from the city…

He's not evil. He was normal like her. More normal even. She'd grown up so strangely; so cut off from a normal childhood. She didn't even know how to have normal friends. The concept was so foreign to her.

She felt his arms moving to wrap around her, to comfort her. He was seeing images from her too! She could feel the emotion in him, the longing to make everything better—to make up for the past she didn't have.

He was just too good. Too honest to let her hide behind the hard wall she had created.

No! She thought angrily. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. She didn't want his pity. She didn't want to realize how bad her past was. If she just considered it normal then she wouldn't have to cry about it. She wouldn't have to feel the pain.

She wanted to push him away, but her body still would move properly.

"It's okay," he whispered. "Sometimes it's just better to confront things. Get them out in the open."

"Oh, so now you're an amazing psychologist?" she managed to say.

And then an image sped from his mind to hers. Porter slinking around the side of the neighbor's house at age seven. Seeing that little girl playing in the sandbox. She had such pretty soft skin with delicate pink toes squirming in the sand. He could feel his teeth sharpening. He was hungry and he wanted to eat her.

But his mommy had told him not to. He wasn't supposed to eat humans.

The temptation was nearly overwhelming. His vision was turning red and his breath became labored as he tried not to think about her. He tried to crawl back to his house because his legs weren't obeying him. But he couldn't. He was so transfixed by her form.

The next part was a blur and when he came to, he had bitten her. The girl was screaming and crying and blood was pouring from the open wound.

"What is it, honey?" a mother cried out. "I'm coming, baby! I'm coming, Lacey!"

Porter ran and hid under his bed. He refused to come out for days. His parents brought raw steak and chicken to his room everyday. They kept tabs on the little girl who had been sent to the hospital, making sure she was all right. When she finally came to, she didn't remember what had happened.

A police report called it a wild dog attack.

When Porter finished grieving over it, he was no longer the child he had used to be. Inside, he had grown years. From that moment on he promised that he would never go so long without eating. He couldn't risk hurting someone again. The next one might die.

Porter pulled back from her neck regretfully. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You didn't need to see that."

But she had needed to see that. The uncertainty that had been clunking around in her mind had finally settled. He had bad tendencies, a predatory nature, but he wasn't _evil_. He was real and vibrant and living; just like her. He wasn't just some evil creature to be bunched up in a black and white category.

She was now slumped against the wall, only held up by his firm grip. He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the couch. He set her down gently, untying the belt that bound her wrists.

"The paralysis should wear off in a few hours," he said.

She managed a weak nod.

The three glanced up from a deep discussion and looked at Porter expectantly. "Well?" Amber asked. "Did you find out where she is?"

Just then a burst of noise came from the front part of the shop. Frantic adult voices discussing the matter at hand. People poured into the room at an exponential rate—yes people. Because whether or not they were werewolf or human, they were still people. She knew that now.

A blond woman in her mid-forties hurried up to Amber and pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh, honey," was all she managed to say.

Then Amber lost her perfect cool and began to cry. "Mom, I'm so worried about her! What if they hurt her?"

"I am too!" The woman stroked her teenager's back. "I am too."

Several of the adults were still shouting over each other to be heard. Finally, a man who looked like he must have been Amber's father bellowed. "Quiet!"

The voices died down.

"Now," the man said, turning to the teenagers in the room. "Who bit her?"

Porter raised his hand slowly. "I did, Mr. Carlyle."

"Do you know where my daughter is?"

He nodded slowly, "But I don't think we should go. I probed Jamie's mind and her father keeps that house on pretty tight surveillance. If we go near the house, he might just kill Bella outright."

Mr. Carlyle took a deep breath and dragged a hand through his short gray hair. His dark and angry thoughts left blotches in Jamie's mind. "Then what do you think we should do?"

"Let Jamie go," Porter replied, nudging a shoulder in her direction. She was still too frozen to move or respond very well. She decided not to answer. It just took too much energy. "She can sneak Bella out."

Amber's jaw dropped. "You're going to trust her?"

Porter nodded firmly. "I've seen her mind. We can trust her. She wants to see your sister safe as much as the rest of us."


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N. If you haven't reviewed by this point, pulease! do! If you get on it right away, you just might be my very first reviewer. Lucky you. I'd really like to know what you think about it. Okay, so here's the next chapter. I also hope to get chapter 10 written by tomorrow, but no promises. I'm in the middle of some hefty exams.**

**Thanks for reading this far!**

Chapter 9

Porter turned the car over to the side of the highway and drove into a stand of trees. He braked. They were still half a mile from her home. He killed the lights to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. In the silence following, Jamie could hear the crickets chirping in the fields beyond the trees. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Her muscles still felt clumsy and unused, but with a little effort she could hide it. The Colonel would never know that she had been bitten. Or at least she hoped.

Jamie cleared her throat slowly, feeling almost shy. Hesitation emanated from Porter's mind. "So this bite thing," she began, "It's not going to last, right? I'm not going to become a werewolf."

Porter shook his head, swallowing. "No, I didn't give you enough…"

"Venom?" she suggested.

He winced. "Is that what your kind calls it?"

"Sorry," Jamie muttered. "I suppose it's kind of a rude term."

He nodded with a faraway look in his eyes. He snapped back, looking at her slowly. "You're going to be alright?"

She nodded bravely.

"Jamie…when this is over…you don't have to stay with them. I'm sure any one of our families would take you in. You shouldn't go back to that. It's not healthy."

Jamie shrugged uncomfortably. She didn't really want to talk about this. The less she thought about it the less likely she was to burst out in tears. Her emotional levels had been a bit erratic lately. And no wonder; it wasn't everyday she got bit by a werewolf. The scariest thing about it was that it had been almost pleasant while some of her deepest secrets had been ripped from her mind. She had wanted to ask him what he had seen in her mind, but she chickened out.

He seemed to follow her train of thought, his emotions playing along the same patterns. She could still feel him distantly, but the true connection had been severed the moment his lips left her throat. She got vague, blurry images every once and a while like she could with the others. They were now like two wolves in a pack: coordinated but distant. And soon, that too would disappear. There was hollowness in her that could only be equated to loneliness.

"I'm sorry we had to invade your privacy," he said honestly, turning to look at her directly. It was the first time since they'd entered the car. His movements were almost jittery. He rambled, "I haven't bit that many people. You get too close that way; see things you never expected to see."

Something sharp rose up in her. She realized it was jealousy. He'd bit other _people_. She suppressed the emotion immediately, hoping he hadn't caught it with his acute senses. A wave of embarrassment roiled over her.

She pulled the handle and hopped out of the car before the situation got any worse. She lingered in the door for a second, drinking in his silver-blue eyes. She said, "I'll be back as soon as I get Bella."

He nodded. "Be careful."

She shut the door. The sound of chirping crickets doubled. She wrapped her arms around herself and headed through the trees. Autumn leaves crunched audibly beneath her feet. She couldn't help the sound. It didn't help that she was partially paralyzed. And even if she'd been a werewolf, she could not have quenched the noise of her arrival completely. There wasn't a spot of clear ground beneath her feet.

The stand of trees ended and she found herself in a wide field. She could just barely make out her house on the other side of the field. Her heart jumped into her throat and she swallowed slowly. She had already rehearsed what she would say, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"Hi, dad," she would say with a daring smile. She would make no comment to his earlier betrayal. "I managed to escape. Those martial arts skills came in handy."

She crept a little faster, an object in her pocket bouncing against her side. Her hand moved to rest upon the bulky object. It was a cell phone. Not hers, of course. The adults had insisted upon keeping it in their possession. When the Colonel was ready to list his demands, he would do so through that phone.

The cell phone she had in her pocket was Amber's. The girl had been reluctant to hand it over, but Mrs. Carlyle had insisted. If Jamie was to put herself in danger for her daughter, then the least they could do was offer her contact for emergency situations. "At the slightest spot of trouble," Mrs. Carlyle had instructed. "You call us. We will be there to back you up."

Bella's mother had wanted the whole group to wait out in the stand of trees near the Vince residence. Mr. Carlyle was able to persuade her otherwise. They didn't want to attract attention. Someone was surely to notice if a pack of six cars decided to park alongside the highway. If the person to notice was the Colonel, everything would be over for their daughter.

By the time she reached home, her heart was pounding hard, and it certainly wasn't from the exercise.

Jamie noticed something was wrong from her first step onto the front porch. The welcome mat was missing. It wasn't just any old welcome mat. It was one the Colonel had ordered specially made with miniature cameras interwoven into the fabric. It didn't make sense for him to take away some of his surveillance when he needed it the most.

She wrenched the door open and flicked on the lights. The furniture were all in their proper places. Except for the papers that had been strewn across the table earlier that night, nothing else appeared to be missing or moved.

"Hello?" She called. Her voice echoed in her ears.

No one responded.

She moved further into the house at an uneasy gait. Her shoes whispered against the old wooden floorboards. A portrait of her mother usually hung in the dining room. If it were missing then her father would be also. She moved to the end of the table so that she could get a clear view of the far wall. The wall stood empty.

Her heart dropped into her stomach and she slumped into a seat at the table. She was too late. Her father and brother had left along with their precious captive. And knowing her father, there wouldn't be a single lead to their present location. The Colonel was no amateur.

Jamie sighed, running her fingers along the wooden tabletop.

She considered using the phone to call Mrs. Carlyle with the bad news but thought better of it. She didn't know how many gadgets her father might have left behind to keep watch over the place. If she called the Carlyles, he would know she was a traitor. Jamie would wait until she was clear of the house before she made the call.

She stood and a tiny sheet of paper caught her eye. Not all of the papers had disappeared. But this didn't look like any of the Colonel's plans. It was a note of some sort, folded into a small square.

Jamie picked it up and unfolded it, reading. Her fingers gripped the creased letter as her teeth gritted.

_Jamie,_

_I know I can't trust you. Whether you got away or not, you would lead them right to us. So we decided a change in location was in order. Help yourself to the house. The landlady won't kick you out until the end of the month. Once our mission is through we will come to pick you up, assuming you are alive. If you are not, you may die knowing you helped a great cause._

_P.S. We left some money in the second drawer._

_Your father_

Jamie scrunched up the letter and threw it against the wall. Thanks for the concern, dad. She wished she had something a little more substantial to throw, but there were knickknacks in the Vince household. There was nothing impractical at all. She was just starting to realize how cold and bare it was. Her mother's portrait was the only object that brightened the room…the whole house, even.

She was so angry and she didn't know what to do about it. For once, her father was right. He couldn't trust her. But he'd repeated that phrase in so many different ways for as long as she could remember. "Are you sure she's a werewolf?" "Are you sure that's her house?" "No, you can't come with us. We have a serious mission and you'll mess everything up."

Jamie stood to leave and as an afterthought, hurried to the second drawer. She counted the money and stuffed it in her pocket. It was only three hundred dollars, but it might come in handy sometime.

She quickly hurried from the house. As soon as she deemed herself far enough away from the house, she would make the call.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks to my first reviewer, Iznil. You've made my day.**

**For all those out there who've been reading, here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy…even though it's quite the volatile chapter (Amber and Jamie fighting). Enjoy!**

Chapter 10

Mrs. Carlyle set out the futon on Amber's floor and Jamie topped it with a sleeping bag and a pillow. The distraught expression hadn't left the mother's face since the moment she had received the bad news. She had wanted to know every last detail Jamie had to offer. Finally, she had thrown up her hands in frustration. "And you have no idea where he could have taken her?"

Jamie shook her head. "It's my fault. If only I'd gotten there sooner. If only I hadn't left her in the first place."

She tried not to transfix her eyes on the other woman's throat, where the collar had shifted. There were incision marks, swiftly healing with her lycanthropic blood. In the matter of a few minutes, the marks had become mere blemishes, nearly indistinguishable.

"No, Jamie," Mrs. Carlyle had said. "You're not to blame."

Amber's mother smoothed out the sleeping bag almost fretfully, trying to make everything as perfect as possible. She fluffed the pillow.

Jamie's eyes deftly slid to Mrs. Carlyle's neck and quickly snapped back to her face. It was smooth and unblemished.

Jamie reached out and touched the woman's arm. "It's okay," she assured her. "It's absolutely perfect. I'll sleep fine."

Mrs. Carlyle smiled weakly. "You sure?"

"Positive," Jamie replied. She slipped beneath the covers to demonstrate just how comfortable she'd be. She pulled the sleeping bag up to her neck. It was a sign of peace and trust. She didn't keep her arms free for rapid movement in the event of a disaster. The Colonel would have said she was losing her touch.

"Why don't you sleep on everything?" Amber's mother suggested. "Maybe in the morning, you'll wake up with an idea. Maybe you'll know where Bella is."

"Maybe," Jamie offered. It was a small chance if any. She had already racked her brains to the point of exhaustion.

"Right," Mrs. Carlyle dropped her hands to her sides. "Well, then I hope you have a good sleep. We'll figure this out one way or another."

"Thanks," Jamie said.

Mrs. Carlyle shot Amber a warning glance before she left the room. The girl lounged on the bed with her covers draped over her. Her long, painted nails turned the page of a magazine slowly. Her silver eyes darted to the door that sat slightly ajar.

Jamie closed her eyes, determined to fall asleep immediately. She suspected Amber's company wouldn't be very polite. The overhead glow shone through her thin eyelids, leaving an imprint of light on the back of her lids.

"They're do that all the time," Amber said as soon as her mother was out of earshot. She didn't clarify very well when she added, "Mom and dad."

Jamie's eyes cracked open a peak. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Amber insisted, the ruffle of pages resounding in Jamie's ear. "I saw you looking at my mom's neck. Mom and dad bite each other all the time. For comfort; for excitement; for love."

Jamie turned over to face the wall with an almost too exaggerated yawn. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Sure you weren't." Amber snorted derisively. She summed Jamie up in a contemplative voice. "You're always watching. I noticed, you know. You always made me feel a little uncanny, and tonight I found out why. Who would have thought you were a disgusting Werewolf hunter? Ever watching and always alone."

The comment hit her, ricocheting through her mind. Always _alone_. She turned to give Amber a disgruntled look. "And you think I don't like it that way?"

Amber shrugged. "I don't know and I don't particularly care."

"Tell me," she added, "how did you trick Porter into thinking you were only our side? How did you do it?"

"I didn't do it," Jamie replied succinctly and turned to face the wall again. She tried not to show the other girl how irritated she felt. "Now, good night."

"And I'm sure you're going to come up with the perfect answer in the morning to tell mother," Amber added sarcastically.

"No I won't," Jamie said tiredly, "because I've already wracked my brains out."

"Where is my sister?" She seethed.

"I don't know."

"Where is she?"

Jamie sat up, just about ready to hogtie the girl and slap something over her mouth so she wouldn't have to hear her anymore. "Why don't you go to my house and check? I'm sure you'll find it empty."

"But you know where she is."

"For the last time, I have absolutely no clue where she is! And why are you smirking so much?" Jamie added in a snappy tone. "Think you're so good? Like when you go walking around Brighton High walking on everybody's egos?"

"Oooh! Jamie's metaphorical."

"You're the worst thing that happened to that school. You know how many people hate you?"

"How many people would love to be me?" Amber interjected smartly.

"You have no idea about the things like decency and respect. They're a foreign language to you. You could nearly knock a person down in the hall and all you would do is laugh about it."

"Life is for laughing."

Jamie took a deep breath. Amber would cut in no matter what she did, but at least she had said her piece. She was about to turn over and get a poor rest if any when Amber got onto her own spiel.

"I've seen you in school," Amber said calmly, but Jamie could imagine a smirk was playing across her features. "I've seen the way you intimidate poor little misfits who try to be your friend. One moment, they're coming up to you with shy, sweet smiles. The next moment, they're scurrying away as if you've set some devils on them. I don't suppose you were having happy, polite conversation."

Jamie didn't reply, keeping her stiff back to the other girl.

"Let me ask you something, do you enjoy it?" Amber continued, seeing she had caught onto a raw nerve and ran with it. "Does it give you pleasure to rip apart their frail little self-esteems? You're scarring them, Jamie."

Jamie bit her lip, blinking rapidly.

"That's the last time they'll walk up to a complete stranger and offer friendship."

Jamie didn't turn as she replied. If she had, Amber would have seen the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. "I get it, all right?" She snapped. "I'm a jerk. I hurt people for a living."

Amber let out a satisfied chuckle. "That's right," she said. "You're no better than me. You don't know anything about decency and respect. So don't you lecture me on how to treat other people."

She added one last time for emphasis. "Don't you lecture _me_."

Jamie nodded off into a restless sleep, the light above her still burning bright. Amber stayed up nearly all night, riffling through the same pages over a hundred times. Jamie liked to imagine Amber's guilt was eating at her, but more than likely, she was just trying to make things harder on her. At what must have been two o'clock in the morning, the light finally switched off.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Jamie rubbed the sleepy dust out of her eyes as she sat down at the table. She blinked groggily at the Carlyle's plates and forced herself not to gag. The family was enjoying some nice raw chicken for breakfast. It was sprinkled with some kind of spices Jamie couldn't identify.

She was glad to notice no such food was placed in front of her. Mrs. Carlyle placed a bowl and spoon on the table for her she added a box of cheerios. "I'm sorry," she apologized with a hopeful glance. "I don't really know what humans like. I saw this on a commercial one time. I've got some honey too, in case you like to stick that on top. And some strawberries and blueberries like in the picture. The next door neighbor told me she likes to pour syrup over her cereal, so I got you some."

Mrs. Carlyle handed her a bottle of vanilla as she said this. Jamie blinked at the bottle's dark contents, realizing that Amber's mother thought this was syrup. The contents sloshed around inside the bottle. She got an image in her mind of vanilla mixed in milk and tried not to swallow distastefully.

"Thanks," she smiled to the woman. "I'm sure it will be great."

Mrs. Carlyle smiled with relief and sat in her seat to eat her chicken. Jamie poured herself some cereal and added the milk. She set the vanilla aside, hoping Mrs. Carlyle wouldn't notice. It was obvious that the woman was trying too hard. She wanted to make everything perfect.

Mrs. Carlyle swallowed some of her chicken before adding. "You can wear some of Amber's clothes to school today."

Amber looked up darkly, showing off her bed hair. "What?"

"Honey," her mother said, "Jamie didn't bring any clothes with her. You can't expect her to go all the way outside of town just to find something to wear."

Amber only grumbled, "Whatever."

After breakfast, Jamie hurried back up to Amber's room to get ready. It felt wrong to go through the other girl's clothing, but she couldn't help feeling a little bit of spite. How could one sister be so sweet and the other a terror? But then, Bella was still so young, her true character unformed.

All of Amber's clothes were tight-fitting and sexy. Jamie pulled herself into a pair of snug-fitting designer jeans, feeling as if she were naked. These were just the type of clothes to go walking around in if she had wanted attention—which she didn't. She couldn't hide if half the guys in school would be staring at her butt.

Amber barged into the room, taking no consideration to the fact that Jamie was only half-clothed. She held her hair up with a towel.

"Ooh," Amber remarked. "You actually do have a figure. I was starting to wonder."

Jamie sent her a withering glare.

"Don't you have anything that doesn't say, 'look at me, I'm an easy target?'" She grumbled. Neither Amber or she were morning people, she was starting to figure out. At least they hadn't had a repeat of last night. She lifted up a tight-fitting, low-necked red shirt and tossed it aside. The next shirt was bright pink and the one after was a sunshine yellow.

"Ah," Jamie said at last as she pulled up a long, sleeveless black turtleneck. This was probably the best she was going to get out of Amber's closet. She pulled it over her head. It was also a snug fit, showing that Jamie did in fact have a chest, however tiny it was.

"We're going to school." Amber replied in a bored tone, "Not a gang fight."

"It's always good to be prepared," Jamie muttered.

Amber snorted and puffed up her chest, mimicking Jamie. You sound like a recorder. Is that something your old man taught you?"

Jamie just shrugged. Someday, this girl was going to get herself into trouble. She didn't seem to realize how dangerous it was to be a werewolf. Or how dangerous it was for Jamie to be a werewolf hunter. If she still was one.

Jamie walked down the hall, feeling like a bundle of nerves. People were actually looking at her. Not just the look up and then look away kind of glance; the you-exist-but-I-don't-know-you look that she was used to. Guys were actually looking her up and down appraisingly. She did her best just to ignore them so she wouldn't feel so naked.

She searched out one solid figure in the crowd. A blond head leaning forward as a deft hand searched through a black backpack propped up against his knee. He pulled out some textbooks and dumped the rest into his locker.

"Hey," she began almost shyly. She nearly started as someone bumped her in the shoulder. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so inwardly focused that she hadn't been able to pay attention. This nervousness was doing bad things to her. She needed to keep her focus.

Porter turned and looked with a half smile and froze. He gave her the once over and repeated it all over again. "Wow," he managed. "You look…"

"Watched," she finished, wrapping her arms around herself.

He nodded and added in a half-whisper. "Yes. I've seen your mind. You're not enjoying this."

"Listen," she said, taking a furtive glance around. No one was watching. As usual, the humans were spending their time caught up in their own little worlds. She still had a hard time thinking she was one of them. She had always distinguished herself as something different. "I wanted to go back to the house tonight. To pick up some of my clothes and to see if there were any clues that I'd missed."

She waited hopefully.

"I'll come with you."

Bingo.

"Great," she said. "So I'll see you after school."

"Yeah," He replied, clearing his tanned throat slowly, almost nervously. "Jamie, I was—"

There was a loud crash. Jamie spun, in panic mode. She moved into fighting stance. Amber had as well as said bad things couldn't happen at school. Well, now she had proof—

Lacey, the girl with the glasses, was sprawled on the floor. Her books were scattered and her pencil crayons scattered even farther. Students looked on in surprise as the noise shattered their conversations. Not a person budged to help her.

Jamie was letting out a sigh of relief. No disaster after all.

Amber's words lit up in her mind, searing her guilty conscious. _Now, let me ask you something. Does it feel good to intimidate people?_

"I'll see you later," Jamie said with a quick glance to Porter.

_Does it give you any pleasure to rip apart their frail self –esteems? You're scarring them, Jamie._

She knelt on the floor and began to pick up the colored crayons. She snatched a purple one away just before a booted shoe nearly crushed it. Porter knelt beside her and whispered in her ear with a significant glance in Lacey's direction. "I'd help you, but I do think she'd let me."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd. The warning bell rang and the students began to leave.

Lacey looked up at Jamie with a nervous glance through her glasses. "Oh. Hi," she managed in a deflated tone.

"Hey," Jamie said, placing the crayons back inside the case with a curious glance. Porter's words had sent her mind whirring. A piece seemed to clunk into place as she made the connection. She instinctively searched out Lacey's neck, although the werewolf poison—formula, she amended—should have cleared it long ago. Jamie's own bite marks had disappeared during the night, thanks to her temporarily lycanthropic cells.

But there they were. Faint, little pink scars sat just below her throat, half hidden by her shirt. She realized that Porter probably hadn't given her the formula. At seven, he had probably been too distraught to think about what needed to be done.

The hall was nearly empty by now. Almost all the students had gone to class. Lacey was frantically lifting all her books into her arms as the last bell rang. She probably wasn't used to being late for class. Jamie handed her the pencil crayon case.

"Hey," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up. She wasn't used to apologizing to anyone. "I'm really sorry about the other day. I was being a real jerk. I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Jamie smiled hopefully. If she knew she hadn't scarred the girl's self-esteem, then maybe the weight would finally fall off her shoulders. There was no guarantee, but she was certain that it make her feel a lot better.

Lacey nodded curtly and turned to go. She stopped and turned, muttering, "I'm already late anyway."

"Look," she said with a furtive glance down the hallway. "I wouldn't hang out with them. They're not what they seem."

"You mean Porter and Amber and…"

The girl nodded vigorously.

"Yeah," Jamie replied. "I know."

"No, you don't know," The girl said insistently. She shuddered. "They're…ughh…they're not human. They're evil."

Not being human didn't always equate to evil. She sent Lacey a sympathetic glance. The girl's self-esteem was probably more scarred than she had first assumed, but it wasn't her doing. Maybe Porter should talk to her.

"So why," Jamie began, "if you knew all this time…Why didn't you tell the police that he'd bitten you."

Lacey's eyes widened in surprise. The girl probably hadn't expected Jamie to know.

She answered finally, worriedly. "Because then he would have killed me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Iznil: Here's another Chapter. **

Chapter 12

Porter was waiting by a beat up old pickup in the parking lot. Jamie didn't know if she'd seen such a rusty vehicle in a long time and the bumper looked like it was about to fall to the ground.

"Will this thing get us there?" she asked skeptically.

Porter patted the blue truck with a hopeful grin. "Old Freddy will do more than get us there. He'll last few more years. I'll be driving him to College next year."

Jamie hopped into the passenger seat and pulled on her seatbelt. "Lets park in the trees again," she said once he had gotten into the car, "just to be careful."

He nodded and shifted the car into drive.

They drove for a few minutes in silence before Porter asked suddenly, "How old are you?"

Jamie blinked, almost forgetting her age. "Seventeen," she managed finally.

"And why did you move here of all places?"

"To kill—why are you asking me all these questions?" Jamie asked feeling a little perturbed. She wasn't used to handing out information so readily.

"Because that's what friends do," Porter replied. "I've seen parts of your mind. I know how it is for you. I want to teach you how to have friends."

_Friends_. The word bounced around in her mind for a moment before roiling into her stomach. She didn't think he could feel her emotions anymore. Not enough to read what was going through her anymore. His were a faint buzz in the back of her mind, unreadable to her. Her cells were reverting back to normal.

Werewolves couldn't read humans. It was a strange twist of nature. She supposed that's why it was so easy for their kind to rationalize a human death. Not all of them, of course. But when their connection was so strong to each other, it must have been hard to see humans as people. They couldn't easily empathize with humans.

"Oh," she said, feeling deflated. She didn't know why she had expected anything more than friends. Why would he want a human when he could have something more intimate, something closer with his own kind?

"We came here because my dad had found some information. He believed there was a werewolf colony here. He wanted—_wants_ to destroy it."

"Some werewolf colony," Porter replied, taking no note to the emotions swimming around her being in dark splotches. If he had noticed them, he probably would have assumed she was feeling darkly about her past. "There're only six families in town. Small families too."

"Yes," Jamie replied. "He knows that now."

"Why does he hate us so much?"

"Because of my mother," Jamie said. "She was killed by a werewolf."

"Warm hugs and the smell of cinnamon," Porter said absently and then looked up, his cheeks tingeing with embarrassment.

Jamie nodded. No doubt he'd found that in her mind earlier. That was exactly how she remembered her mother. The most vivid things, anyway. Her smile, the way that she laughed…those qualities had long since lost their starkness in her memories. Even the picture that normally sat upon the dining room wall did nothing to spark those memories in her. It was flat and lifeless, like a picture of someone she'd heard of but never met.

She added. "His name was Sidney Torrison. I think he was of some significance to werewolves at the time. Some sort of ring leader."

By the way Porter's eyebrows raised at the name, she was pretty sure she was right on the mark.

"My father followed his trail for years. If there was anything he did in his life, he wanted to get revenge on that man. He killed him a couple of years ago."

"So that's who," Porter said with light dawning in his eyes. "Yes. He was a ringleader. He managed to get a lot of werewolves on his side. He thought of humans as just food and wanted us all to feel that way. There was a huge political split between the human eaters and the human sympathizers. Most of the 'wolves moved back to the sympathizing side when Torrison died. Nobody was ever able to find out who did it."

Jamie's eyebrows rose in surprise. This was news to her. She wondered why her father had never known about the good 'wolves. She supposed he was too consumed with hatred to worry about technicalities. _Important_ technicalities.

"I thought," Jamie continued, surprising herself. She never talked about this with others. She'd never even mentioned it to Doug. "Well, I hoped," she amended, "that when he had killed Torrison, that all the hate would leave him. I thought his quest would be over…but it wasn't. It was like he was more consumed than ever. He suddenly had no reason for being anymore so had to invent one."

"Reason for being?" Porter nearly choked as he guided the vehicle into the stand of trees. "How about being a father? Being a good citizen? How about fighting for justice and good?"

Jamie shook her head, realizing it as she spoke it. "He's too far gone."

They jumped out of the vehicle and headed through the trees toward the field. Their feet barely made a sound against the soft dirt. There was the occasional crunch of a leaf that could not be helped.

"You're very good," Porter remarked of her footwork, "for a human."

They moved into the field, the long yellow grass tickling her knees.

"It's what I've been raised for," Jamie said with a sigh.

"I hear Mrs. Carlyle is pretty keen on taking you in," Porter suggested and then winced. "Your father might not take you in after you've betrayed him…if he's still alive."

Jamie cringed at this. Not only at the thought of her father's death, but the thought of living with Amber for a year—it brought a vile taste to the back of her throat. "It's very nice of her," Jamie managed to say in a somewhat pleasant voice, "but I think I'll have to say no."

"It's Amber, isn't it?" Porter said with an astute glance. "Don't judge her by what you've seen. She's just worried about her sister—and yes she can be a pain. She can be a formidable enemy but she can also be the best of friends. She's someone you will want on your side."

Jamie snorted as she took the first step on the front porch. A formidable enemy? Even right from the start, she had picked Amber out as the weakest link. She was hot-tempered, weaker, and didn't like to get her hands dirty. The only thing she had going for her was that she could argue the legs off a mule.

Porter opened the door and allowed her to walk in first—ever the gentleman. The problem was that he treated everyone that way. She was no exception. It was infuriating to try to make out what he thought of her. Other than worry and friendship. That much she could see clearly.

They hurried up the stairs to her room. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath her feet. Porter scuffed a small throw rug with his foot, upraising her bare walls. "No pictures? No bands?"

"No time," Jamie responded and began to pull out a few outfits. She chose her least favorite pairs, knowing her father and brother wouldn't miss them if they happened to return for any reason. She packed them into her backpack.

She felt strangely like she was being watched. She shouldn't have brought Porter here. She didn't know what kind of surveillance her father might still have on the house. Her father usually didn't keep her room on surveillance, but she had brought him through half of the house! She cursed herself for being such a weakling; for not wanting to be alone. She was always alone. Why should things be different now?

They should leave. She zipped up the backpack hurriedly.

"Let's go," she said.

Porter put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she took a deep breath, shaking her head desperately. "I just—we need to leave. Now!"

As he was nodding she happened to look up through the window out onto the driveway below. A car was pulling into the driveway. It was the green jeep that the Colonel had bought for Doug and her. She stood paralyzed as Doug pulled the car into park. He hadn't looked up yet.

Jamie moved like lightening. She sprung at Porter, bringing her feet around the back of his knees. Otherwise, her weight wouldn't have been enough to fell him, even with his slight build. They both tumbled to the floor. Porter landed hard, the air exploding from his as she landed on him. His jaw bounced back into her cheek, jarring her teeth.

She cursed silently, hoping against hope that Doug hadn't seen them.

She moved off of Porter's disgruntled form.

"Hurry," she whispered. "Get under the bed! He can't see you here!"

Porter followed her instructions without question. This wasn't the time to hesitate. She moved the covers about to hide any sight of the boy lying under the bed. She dumped her backpack in the closet and hurried to the top of the stairs.

She gripped the banister and tried to control her breathing. In her present form, she looked like a fox caught in a hen house. Her brother would notice that something was wrong right away. She leaned against the banister and tried to calm herself. The banister wobbled slightly under her weight. It had always been loose.

She set on an indifferent expression and walked down the stairs to meet the boy coming through the front door. Doug's head came around to look at her. To her relief, a smile spread across his gaunt cheeks. She hurried to him and gave him a genuine hug.

"I knew it," he said, hugging her back. "I knew you were too good for a pack of werewolves. My little sister."

She pulled back. "It was horrible," she lied.

He nodded grimly. "Don't you worry. They'll pay for every hand they laid on you."

She nodded, feeling her heart thump in her chest. She shouldn't have said that. Now Doug would go after them with everything he had. If only she could turn back time and stop the words from escaping her mouth.

"I'm sorry we left without you. Dad didn't think you'd last a minute. He thought you'd spew everything when they threatened to kill you. I told him you were better than that. He's had the cameras trained on here since we left and nothing's happened. He's gone to get some lunch right now, but when he gets back to the control room he'll see everything's fine." He whispered in her ear, his voice lower than the sensors could pick up. "I can't wait to stick it to him."

Jamie swallowed sickly. Any moment, the Colonel would be playing the tapes back to see Porter and her walking through the house. How could she and Porter get away before the Colonel sent the alarm?

"So everything's all right?" She managed to speak without sounding too weak. "Everything's in place?"

Doug grinned with accomplishment. "I set it all up this morning. We can make the ransom call tonight. The weather report said it's going to be really cold this weekend, so we'll make the pick up date sooner. That way we'll give them less time to act."

Jamie smiled, her heart thumping within her breast. "Great."

"Yeah, it is great." Doug exclaimed, a grin bursting across his features. "I did an absolutely perfect job on the explosives. Jamie, you're never going to guess—"

Doug's cell rang and he sighed. "Must be dad. What does he want now?"

Jamie slipped one foot behind her, darting a quick glance on her surroundings. There was no plausible way she could stop Doug from answering the phone, except—

Jamie snatched the phone away from his fingers and flipped it on. "Hello? Dad you'll never guess how I got away! How could you leave me there?"

All the while she was speaking excitedly into the phone, the Colonel was yelling murderously. "You traitor! You freak! How could you do this, you murder lover?"

"I love you too," Jamie managed to say sweetly.

Doug gave her an odd look. They had never been a family for affectionate words. She silently cursed herself for the comment. She was just too nervous to think straight.

"Okay," Doug said, reaching for the phone. "It's my turn."

He took it from her grasp before she could protest. Jamie did the only thing she could think of at that moment, working on desperation. She gripped a post in the rickety banister and ripped it free. Doug gave her an odd look, like he couldn't figure out what she was doing and began to talk into the phone.

She pulled the post back and swung for Doug's head like she was trying to hit a home run. She lost momentum at the end with a cringe. She didn't want to kill him—just incapacitate him for the time being.

The post connected with Doug's skull and he dropped to the floor. The cell skittered from his grasp and bounced on the hardwood. He was out cold. A large goose egg was beginning to form on his forehead.

As she leaned down to check her brother's pulse, the Colonel was still yelling at her through the phone. "I'm sorry Doug," she whispered. "This is the way it has to be. I really do love you."

She straightened smoothing, with a hurried glance up the stairs. "Come on, Porter! We got to leave now!"

Porter appeared at the top of the stairs in moments. Her backpack was slung over his shoulder. He looked down at Doug in surprise. He hurried to grasp her by the shoulders with a smoldering look in his silver-blue eyes. "Why didn't you call for help?" He demanded. "You could have been hurt!"

"No time," she responded on a breath of air. "He'll be awake in moments."

They leaped over her brother's prone form and dove for the door. The two zipped into the fields running pace for pace. The front door crashed open behind them and Jamie and she heard the sound of thudding feet.

"Faster!" She managed to gulp between quick breaths.

Porter reached his hand around her back, gripping hard. He doubled the speed, sweeping across the ground inhumanly fast. The ground sped beneath her at a shocking pace. She only managed to bounce her sneakers against the ground about three times before they had reached the grove of trees. She was practically flying.

Porter deposited her on the ground before the passenger door and sped to his side.

"Jamie!" Doug screamed across the field. He was closing in fast, but not fast enough. "Jamie!"

Jamie hopped into the car and slammed the door behind her. "Drive!"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

When they adults found out that Jamie and Porter had returned to the house, they were absolutely furious. Especially Porter's mother, who gave both her son and Jamie the talking to of their lives. "Do you know how close you came to being hurt?" She had cried out, wringing her hands. "I would have expected this of Alec, but you, Porter? I thought you were always the level headed one!"

"And you!" She had shaken her finger at Jamie. "Pulling my son into your little schemes is a poor way to show your gratitude!"

"Mom," Porter had protested, moving to stand between Jamie and the shaking finger. "It's my fault. I insisted on coming along."

Jamie was doing her best not to smirk. This was absolutely ridiculous! She wasn't a child! She could take care of herself just fine, as she had proven today. Besides, it was a little smothering to have parent figures wringing their necks about her at all hours. She wasn't used to it at all.

A few moments later, Amber's, Leigh's, and Alec's parents burst through the front door of the Maxwell home. Well, everybody's parents and Alec's mother. She didn't think Alec's father was in the picture anymore. Jamie hadn't seen him once since their troubles had begun.

Mrs. Carlyle held up Jamie's cell and called out. "Her father made his demands. He wants us to come up with a million dollars and take them to the Henderson house this Saturday at midnight. He wants all of us to come. If we don't, he won't hand over Bella. He wants to record all of us by face so he'll know his enemies."

Mr. Maxwell gasped. "Three days! He wants a million dollars in three days?"

Jamie slumped against the entrance wall wearily. It was happening too fast. It was all too fast and she didn't have a clear idea for a plan. When it came down to it, the adults would turn to her because she knew the Colonel best.

"He doesn't want the million dollars," Jamie spoke up loudly. The adults turned to her. "It was just to give you false sense of security. He wanted you to think he wouldn't destroy you because then he'd lose the money. He planned to blow you all up—including the money. And Bella."

Mr. Maxwell gave Jamie an odd look. "It would have to be an awfully powerful bomb to kill us. Does he even have the resources?"

Jamie shut her eyes, feeling tired and sick. "He coats the explosive in a two-inch layer of silver. When the shrapnel hits you, you'll die."

The adults fell into a thunderous silence. No one felt like speaking for a moment—Jamie least of all. A hand prodded her shoulder gently, trying to keep her focused. She opened her eyes to find it was Porter.

"You know him best of all." He spoke encouragingly. Strength shone in his silver-blue eyes. "What do we need to do?"

Jamie sighed, knowing the answer and wishing she didn't have to utter it. "I have to go into the Henderson house," she said. "Late tonight, when it's too dark for the cameras to pick me up. If I can find the bomb, I'll disable it."

She turned to the adults and said. "I need to go alone."

A few voices rose in protest, Porter's most of all. Jamie managed to speak over them. "If you all come," she spoke loudly, "and the sensors pick us up…He might just decide to set off the explosives right then and forget about later. If I went by myself, it would just be a waste of a bomb."

"There's a chance he might set it off anyway." Porter protested.

"Better me than all of us," Jamie replied, refusing to look Porter in the eye. She needed to keep her steel strength and resolve. And right now, Porter could shatter it with a single, pleading glance. Right now, she needed the Colonel's advice. Keep the one goal in your mind's eye, she imagined him saying. Nothing else matters. Nothing but the goal.

"Besides," she said. "I'm his daughter. There's a chance he won't let the explosion take place."

This thought abated the adults, but she could see the skeptical expression that crossed Porter's face. He'd heard the Colonel give her up to the enemy without a second thought. And he'd seen the Colonel's single minded ruthlessness through her mind. None of her arguments convinced him in the least.

She looked him straight in the eye and whispered, "For Bella."

She stepped into the tight-fitting black pants and pulled the dark shirt over her head. They sculpted to her body like a second skin. In the light of Mrs. Maxwell's room, they accentuated her every curve—as few of them as she had. She stood before the full-length mirror, feeling like a willowy flower. Her body stood like a slim black stem followed by her heart-shaped face. Her reddish-brown hair fell about her shoulders, glistening in the overhead lights. The shadows below drew across her features, making them seem dark and taut and nearly hiding her smattering of freckles from view. It matched her mood at the moment. Now, she had the look of one who could not be missed in a crowd. In the blackness the night would afford, she would be nearly impossible to see.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Jamie immediately stopped examining herself in the mirror. She didn't want to appear too vain. She had a habit of looking in mirrors, ever since she was young. Doug used to tease her about it. But it had taught her many things: the movement of a muscle as someone prepares to attack, exactly which kicks had the most power, which blocks were the most effective…

"Come in," she said after clearing her unused voice. She had been hiding out in Mrs. Maxwell's room for the past hour. Anything to get away from all the nervous people and their congratulatory remarks. She had just wanted to be alone for a while. No, she admitted, she had wanted to be comforted. But the room full of adults had just been too smothering. There was a possibility that she would die tonight, and she didn't want the memory of squirming through a room of nervous people to be her last.

Porter slipped through the door, cat-quiet. He clicked the door shut behind his back and walked to her. He stopped about a foot away.

"The parents won't let me come with you."

She smiled. It was good to have one person who understood; whom she could rely on. "You should listen to them," she told him. "They'll need you to fight another day…if I don't make it."

"Jamie, don't talk like that. It's so…fatalistic."

She looked down at her hands clasped in front of her. "Sorry."

To Jamie's surprise, he reached out and took her shoulders in a firm grip. His eyes were determined. She'd never thought of Porter as the bull-headed type. He was always so genial and so compromising. But the look he gave her then, was nothing but bull-headed.

"I don't care what they say," he told her. "I'm coming with you. I'm not going to let you do this on your own."

Jamie shook her head vehemently.

"Jamie, if you don't want me to go inside, then I won't. But I'll be waiting outside for you. I'll be there if you need me, in case you get hurt."

She shook her head again.

"You can't stop me."

This was true. She couldn't stop him. Porter was stronger than her, faster than her, and as much as she'd like to dismiss the idea, probably smarter too. He would do whatever he darn well pleased no matter what she thought.

She looked up at him and said, "Bite me."

Porter's eyes widened and his pupils grew to nearly twice their normal size. They drank her in, shifting to her unblemished throat. He blinked and backed away, bringing a hand up to cover his eyes for one moment.

"Don't tempt me," he pleaded.

"I can't hear you in my head anymore." Jamie told him. "And you probably can't hear me either. How am I supposed to send you a message if you can't hear me?"

"I gave you too much of the formula last time." Porter said, still refusing to look at her. "I got carried away; too interested by what I found in your mind."

Finally, his eyes snapped up to her face. "If I give you much more, you would change over. Once you're a werewolf, you're always a werewolf. There's no turning back. You don't want to be one of us. Sometimes our natures are so dark and so hard to control. Almost impossible, even."

Jamie would be lying if she said she wanted to become a werewolf. The memory of the time Porter bit Lacey was still fresh in her mind. It was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. And to be honest, she hadn't really wanted him to bite her so they could keep contact tonight. She'd just wanted to feel that closeness again. That feeling that any human would die for if that person had felt it just once. It was almost addictive.

"Just a little?" she asked. "Would a little change me?"

"Jamie, it's not real." He said it suddenly, shocking her into silence. "Of course it feels good. It's supposed to feel good. Biologically, if a serum could be made to give the victim a natural high, to love being hunted…Well, you get my point. It's all part of the werewolf's charm to get a meal."

Jamie surprised herself by speaking so audaciously. "There are a lot of biological things that feel good. Eating. Smelling. Sleeping. They are very real and they are good."

Porter nearly threw up his hand in exasperation. "Don't you realize I'm trying to do this for your good?"

Jamie could see the resistance in Porter's eyes weakening. What werewolf could deprive his self of bait that was to willingly pleading to be tasted? He moved toward her again gripping her by the shoulders. "Just a little."

He leaned forward swiftly, before she could even cringe. She didn't even see his teeth turn to vicious fangs because the change happened so quickly. His tongue didn't flick along her skin this time. She needed to be as deft and alert as possible. She could feel the serum being expelled into her system.

She gave into the feeling of his mouth at her throat. And the feeling of his arms holding her so gently. She wanted to reach out and hold him back. But what did he really feel about her anyway? Did he truly just think of her as a friend?

She could feel herself begin to tremble as she thought of the consequences of her actions. In moments he would be able to feel her emotions and he would know her true motives. She realized in that moment that she was afraid. Afraid that he would reject her.

The world burst into a whole new color. She could feel Porter's anger and fear and longing to comfort her all rolled into one burst of emotion. It hit her like a tidal wave. There was something else there too. She could just barely pick it out of the mess off emotions. He was afraid she didn't want to be comforted, that she would push him away.

She stood there for minutes, lapping in the peace of his comfort. Lapping in the serenity of his strong arms wrapped around her. An image started to burst toward her.

He pulled away suddenly and she reached up to grip the back of his neck. She tried to drag him back down again as the closeness began to fade. He was just too strong.

"No, Jamie," he whispered in her ear. "Remember. You don't want to become a 'wolf. Remember that."

Oh, yeah.

He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, breathing deeply. He was so close that his breath mingled with hers. If she leaned forward just an inch…

But she didn't have to. His mouth moved in to close the gap and then they were kissing. A long desperate kiss as though they were afraid it would be their only. Jamie could feel the tingles running through her and sending her heart racing. She was lost in the sensations for a moment, but finally they broke apart.

She had a job to do and she couldn't forget it. For Bella.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

She sat in the car Leigh's dad had let her borrow. Not the nice one Jamie had seen parked just outside the Maxwell driveway. That was Mr. Bennett's baby and no one—especially someone who might very well get blown up—was going to touch his stick shift. He let her borrow the old black Lincoln. It was a piece of junk, but it would do the trick just nicely.

Jamie drove to the end of the next block and idled. She didn't have to wait long. Within seconds, a dark blur caught up to the vehicle. When he finally stopped to hop into the car, his features solidified.

"They didn't see me." Porter strapped the seatbelt across his chest. "We're good to go."

Jamie placed her foot on the gas and they were off. Neither of them felt like talking much as they sped toward the Henderson place. They fell into an alert silence. She let her mind wander slightly, letter the lower half of her brain autopilot the car. Soon they were out of town and the streetlights stopped flashing soothing patterns across the dashboard.

From there on out, it was mostly dark fields with the occasional tree racing by the windows. They passed her old house and sped onward. She began to keep a lookout for an old and dilapidated home.

"Henderson home, coming right up," Porter remarked wearily, his emotions swimming guiltily. Jamie got a faint image from his brain. He felt as if he should be the one to enter the house—not her.

Jamie turned the car over to the side of the road and braked. She hoped she could trust Porter not to do anything rash. She turned to him firmly and said, "Please don't go anywhere. Stay in the car."

His eyes flared up and he gave her the look of a sullen child. A child who has been given unnecessary orders. He knew his duty—even if he didn't like it. Maybe it wasn't such a good thing to feel his emotions. This job would be a lot easier without knowing what he felt.

She smiled apologetically and moved over to brush his cheek with her lips, as soft as butterfly wings. She pulled back and hopped out of the car, shutting it softly behind her. The door made a resounding click and Jamie cringed. At least she had parked far enough away from the property. She doubted her father and Doug had placed sensors this far from the house.

She padded softly along the ground, her feet padded soundlessly along the damp dirt. Porter's serum was doing something to her senses—making them keener. The moon looked so much brighter and rounder from this distance. It cast a pale glow over the scraggly bushes and muddy ground. Jamie supposed the Henderson home had had grass once, but it was long gone now. The dirt was probably hard-packed and firm on most occasions. After the rainfall yesterday, it was like a sticky quagmire. She was every aware of the way her shoes sunk a few inches with each step she took. The scent of squirrels darting through the scraggly bushes caught her nose, startling her. She had never smelled a squirrel before—or been aware of the face that she smelled them. Human noses were not quite so acute.

As she lifted her feet from the sticky substance, the mud swallowed in slowly, to hide the prints she had made. It took her a good fifteen minutes to reach the front porch. The mud wouldn't let her move any faster.

She slipped the shoes from her feet and placed them just before the lowest step. She didn't need any muddy footprints giving them away. The Colonel needed to believe that the bombs were still active for their charade to work.

The Henderson house was rickety, but dazzling. It looked like one of those old plantation homes. Tall white pillars rose up around the front porch, supporting an upper balcony—or attempting to support. The last pillar on the right was splintered and bent, making a section of the upper balcony hang dangerously low. One of the supports had smashed through a front window and glass shards littered the front deck.

The termite-ridden wood dipped beneath her weight, and it was all Jamie could do to keep the wood from groaning. The front door was old and rusty and she imagined how it would squeal on its hinges. She opted for the shattered window instead. She pulled off the black coat the adults had let her borrow and placed it over the spiky sill. She braced her hands against the sill and lifted her feet into the air. She swung them around to land noiselessly in the room beyond. She was glad for her sharp sight as she landed in the blackness. If she had been fully human, it would have been almost impossible to see.

She got to work immediately, searching for loose floorboards or old boards that had been recently hammered down with new nails. She found plenty of loose floorboards but none of the latter. She reached her hands down inside the loose boards, cringing at the cobwebs that touched her fingers. She found no silver-encased bombs. Once she had searched the entire floor of the house, she moved to the walls, looking for cracks. She knocked softly, trying to hear a hollow echo. Next she checked the rafters and the nooks and crannies. Finally, she leaned into the corner, clenching her fists in frustration. She wanted to scream but that would have been her death.

She moved about the house again, rechecking everything. Where could they have placed the bombs? Finally, when her second search was over, she knew there was no bomb in the house. She remembered the grin that had crossed Doug's face. He said that she would never guess. Never guess what? Where had they hidden it?

With a soundless sigh, she finally gave up. It was nowhere in the house. She couldn't even begin to fathom the plan that had filled their heads. If only she had paid more attention when she had the chance.

She moved out the way she had come, placing the coat once more about her shoulders. It kept the night air from chilling her arms. Doug had been right. A cold spell was coming.

Her socks whispered along the porch and accidentally skittered a piece of glass. She froze. Finally, she dared move again. Hopefully, if the sensors picked it up, they would assume it was only a squirrel.

She stepped into the pair of grimy shoes and began to make her way back through the quagmire, keeping her senses opened. She smelled a faint trace of gunpowder, but that was to be expected. They had obviously brought the bombs passed here to place them in the house.

"We see you werewolf!" Doug barked. "Stop where you are!"

Jamie nearly jumped out of her skin. It was so unnerving to hear his voice. She couldn't smell him at all. Her ears trained to find the exact location of the voice. It was coming from a tiny skeletal bush just to her right. Miniature speakers, she realized, as she caught sight of a miniature gadget not much larger than a speck of dust. One of Doug's favorites.

She sniffed the air carefully, hoping to catch his scent. Doug wouldn't make such an outburst if he didn't plan to attack. He must have been near by, but the question was how near by. He obviously wasn't close enough to know he was threatening his sister.

She took off at a run, somewhat encumbered by the sticky mud. She ran low. She didn't want to make herself an easy target. The vehicle wasn't far now. She could feel Porter's surprise and knew he had caught on to her fear. He was coming to help her.

No! She thought the word with hard determination. She only hoped he would understand her meaning. Thoughts didn't flow in words—it didn't work that way.

She was almost there as Porter jumped from the car. The mud had become damp dirt again, dappled by little islands of grass.

A shot crackled in the distance. As Jamie dove the last few yards to the car, a force hit her in the side, driving her even more quickly. She tumbled to the ground, coughing hard. She looked down at herself, to see what had hit her. Blood was welling on her side, shining purple-black in the moonlight through the torn material. Jamie brought her hand to the torn cloth and it came back sticky wet.

Then the pain caught up with her and she was in mind shattering agony. It hurt too much to cry out. She'd been shot. Doug had shot her with a silver bullet.


	15. Chapter 15

**People: There's a little button at the bottom of the page where you can review the story. Please! Please! Please! For my sake?**

**For Iznil: I think I have time to write another chapter before I go to work. . Not that I don't like work (it gives me some spending money), but I have so much more fun writing.**

Chapter 15

She could hear a car door open through the buzzing in her ears. She couldn't see anything clearly anymore. Her vision was red with pain. Objects swam, making them impossible to identify. Arms gripped her tightly and lifted her into a seat. She must have been in the back seat, because her body lounged painfully across the length of the cushioning object.

She gritted her teeth as another shot exploded through the air. Porter slammed the door behind her and she could hear him dropping to avoid the missile with her acute hearing. Glass shattered. Tiny objects rained down on her, biting into her legs like little mosquitoes.

Porter darted around the side of the car and jumped inside. The car revved to life just as another shot burst through the air. Jamie was jolted backward as the car took a steep turn. She felt the bump as the car tires plopped back onto the highway. The car swung in a wide arc and steadied itself in what must have been the correct lane.

Jamie tried to lull her body into the sound of the engine as the car sped away. As long as she could focus outward, then she wouldn't have to feel this pain. It felt as though acid was running through her veins. The idea of falling unconscious seemed very tempting at the moment. The only thing that kept her from falling into the oblivion that was threatening to take her was the worry that she'd never wake up again.

"Porter?" She coughed.

"It's okay, Jamie," Porter called back. She could hear the uncertainty in his voice and feel it in his mind. "You'll be all right. My father's a doctor. He'll look at you. Everything will be okay."

Jamie decided not to respond. It took too much effort. She reached out with her mind as Porter took a sharp turn. She tried to enshroud him in a blanket full of comfort. She could feel him reaching back to her as well.

The car spun another turn and stopped. Jamie could make out bright lights penetrating her closed eyelids. She suspected she was in a driveway. Porter's probably. Porter was suddenly at her door. He lifted her into the air and carried her toward the house. There was the deafening sound of conversations and laughter as the door to the house was opening.

"Porter? Is that you? You deliberately disobeyed my expressed wishes!" Mrs. Maxwell's voice increased in volume as she neared. Suddenly, she gasped. "Oh, my—"

"Mom?" Porter managed between heaving breaths. "Where's dad? I need him right now!"

"Bring her to the couch!" Mrs. Carlyle's voice broke through the noise.

Jamie felt her body being moved swiftly. Porter laid her into the soft folds of the couch. The wound stung as he accidentally bumped it with his elbow. She took a sharp intake of breath.

His hand was on her forehead, pushing her hair back from her face. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"Move back, Porter." She heard a gentle male voice command. She felt him move off a distance. The heat from his form was replaced by cool, uninhabited air. Then another figure stepped into the space, probing the wound at her side. Despite his gentle touch, she felt an excruciating amount of pain. She cried out.

"Now this is really going to hurt," the doctor soothed, "but I want you to bear with me. Okay?"

She nodded sightlessly, gritting her teeth.

The hand moved down again, reaching into the open wound. She couldn't help the cry that escaped her lips. She had never felt something so terrible in her entire life.

The doctor gripped something and pulled it from her flesh. "Silver," he commented grimly.

"But she's human," Porter commented hopefully. "She'll be okay, right?"

"A human would die from a bullet wound like this. She should already be dead." The doctor commented darkly. "She's been bitten more than once. Porter?"

She could feel a tinge of embarrassment seeping from the boy. It was all the father needed to know.

"You bit her again."

"Yes," Porter agreed. "So we'd be able to communicate tonight."

"Do you know how much pain you're putting her through?" The doctor asked darkly, anger emanating from his form. "She could have died outright, but now she'll have to suffer through hours of pain before she dies!"

"No!" Porter snapped. "You have to do something! You have to save her! Turn her into a werewolf or something!"

"Porter," Mr. Maxwell argued, speaking more softly now. There was pain in his mind as he watched his son, foretelling the hurt Porter would feel. He wanted to protect his son from that. "She's got silver in her blood. It will inhibit her ability to heal. It's probably already reacted with her blood to form the healing inhibitor."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Mrs. Maxwell asked softly.

The doctor sighed. "I can put some TriptoKeri formula in her blood stream. It will steal the silver from her blood molecules. Then she'll need to be turned pure 'wolf to heal the damage. But there's no guarantee. She'll probably die before the TriptoKeri is able to work."

"We have to do it," Porter said. "We have to try."

Jamie felt a large hand reach down and land comfortingly on her shoulder. "Is this what you want, child?" The doctor asked. "Are you willing to become a 'wolf to save your life?"

Jamie swallowed hard as another bout of pain washed over her body. Slowly she nodded. She didn't want to become a werewolf. But she didn't want to die either. It wasn't time for her to go. She had so much to do first.

"Okay," she managed.

"Get the TriptoKeri from the cabinet," the doctor ordered. He was holding a piece of cloth over her wound to staunch the blood flow.

There was the sound of pattering feet and then the person returned. "Here father," Porter said with a nervous tinge to his voice.

A gentle hand gripped her arm, swabbing something over the surface. Then she felt a sting of pain as a needle was pushed into her arm. The needle was pulled from her arm after the liquid had been released into her bloodstream.

"I'll bite her," Porter offered.

Jamie nodded. There was no one else she wanted to do it. She felt safe with Porter. Loved. And if there was no guarantee…If there was a chance she had to die tonight…she wanted to connect minds one last time.

Gentle arms pulled her up into a sitting position. His arms were around her, holding her as if she were a fragile china doll about to shatter. She could feel his warm breath on her throat.

Then he struck.

There was momentary pain overruled by the warmth of his arms and his mouth nuzzling her neck. Then the world heightened once again. In fact, it nearly disappeared. The pain was too much to pay attention to the outside world. Porter was the only thing that was real and alive, blazing in her mind like a bright torch. He spread warmth and comfort through her, holding on with fierce determination. An image spanned the distance between their two minds, racing from his to hers. It was Porter looking down at her with fierce anger in his eyes, emotions running wild beneath the surface of his tanned features. Her mind interpreted the image into words in an instant.

_Don't you dare die on me, Jamie._

She sent back an image of effort. She was trying, it meant.

She lapped in the peace of his golden light filtering her mind. It felt so good just to lie there. The pain had nearly been pushed away completely. She felt a sleepy haze overtake her body. If she had to die, this was the perfect way to do it.

Porter sent her one thought. _No_.

She drifted into unconsciousness.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

There was a bright light shining in her eyes and making her squint. Jamie batted her hand at it automatically, as if she could make it go away. This didn't work and she hadn't really expected it to. Oh well, at least it was golden and warm. Jamie felt the beam dapple along her form, lulling her into a contented state.

Suddenly, memories were coming back to her. She started, still seeing nothing but the streaming light. Am I in heaven? She immediately discarded the idea as she felt the mass of tangled hair bunching up at the back of her head.

"Amber!" A voice whispered. "Close the curtain! You're disturbing her."

Jamie squinted to her right. The voice came along with long dark hair and a biker jacket that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. She was surrounded by an aura of irritation splotches and a little bit of excitement. The name Leigh Bennett entered Jamie's mind.

Oh, yeah. She remembered them now. She didn't mind Leigh's company, but she didn't particularly care for Amber's. There was someone else in the room too, lounging in a chair to the side. Jamie blinked at him, rubbing at her bleary vision. Sleepy dust came away with her fingers.

It was Alec Hindley. Jamie couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.

"Where's Porter?" Her voice croaked as if she hadn't spoken in a million years. The thought _million years_, resounded in mind again. "What day is it?" she said frantically. "Is Bella okay?"

"Slow down, girl," Leigh mentioned, putting a hand to Jamie's shoulder. "It's Thursday. The ransom date is Saturday night. And Porter's catching a wink. He was in here all night. We practically had to chase him out."

Jamie smiled involuntarily, placing a hand over her eyes to keep out the bright sunlight. There was an audible sigh and the curtains were closed halfway. That was better. Now she could see the blonde girl who was standing by the curtains.

"Am I…?" Jamie couldn't finish her sentence. Instead, she pulled the tee part way up to take a look at her flat, unblemished stomach. She dropped it down again quickly, remembering that there was a boy in the room.

She was wearing one of Amber's shirts again. This one was tight and yellow with the picture of a duckling on front. It must have been one of Amber's pajama shirts.

"Take a look for yourself," Amber replied, handing her a pocket mirror. There was none of her usual malice.

Jamie lifted the mirror up to her face. She looked the same as she normally did. She still had a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and a smoothly sculpted nose. Her hair ran down her back, straight and reddish-brown, just like usual. The only difference was her eyes. She couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. Her eyes held uncanny silver light. They were mostly the brown they had always been. Only now, their rims had a tiny silver ring, giving her eyes more of a hazel tinge.

Jamie dropped the mirror into her lap.

Alec got up from his seat in the far corner. "I'm going to get myself some hot chocolate." He said. "You girl's want some?"

Jamie was surprised to find she did. She thought that once she had become a werewolf, everything else would become vapid and tasteless. Perhaps that wasn't the case after all. The memory of the taste on her tongue made her nod with relief. It would be great to get this dry feeling out of the back of her throat.

The other girls said yes as well. As soon as Alec had left the room, Leigh and Amber turn to each other with knowing looks.

"This could be a good thing," Leigh told Amber. "He hasn't been acting rudely to Porter at all."

Amber was nodding excitedly.

Jamie's brow furrowed. "What?"

"There's always tension between Alec and Porter," Leigh mentioned. "Just because Porter's been here longer and we all dated him when we were kids."

"I dated Porter for like a week in third grade!" Amber complained. "I don't see why he has to be so jealous about it. He knows I love him."

"Two weeks," Leigh amended.

"Whatever," Amber replied with a wave of long manicured nails. "I mean, Porter's a good friend and all, but he's too much of a brainiac."

Jamie didn't see how having a brain was a bad thing. She liked that about Porter.

"But now that you and Porter are an item," Leigh added, "Things are turning out nicely."

Jamie felt her cheeks turn a little pink. She didn't know how the news had gotten around so fast. She didn't really want to talk about it. She almost felt as though by talking she would lose the magic of the moments. That was silly, of course. Wasn't it?

The two girls were grinning at her. It was especially weird to see a grin on Amber's face when it was tuned in her direction. Jamie gave her an odd look and the smile on Amber's face faltered a little.

"I suppose," the blonde girl said slowly and seriously, "that you have to be rather insane to get yourself shot by your own guys. You'd have to be stark raving mad."

Jamie smiled slightly. She supposed that was as close to an apology as she was going to get from the other girl. It was enough. At least Amber wasn't going to be hounding her for the rest of the time she lived in Lampton Hill—especially if Mrs. Carlyle insisted upon having Jamie move in with the family.

"I'm sorry too," Jamie said.

Alec came back carrying a tray of steaming cups. It suited him rather nicely. Jamie was so used to seeing him as a stuck up jerk exploding with testosterone that she had completely disregarded the idea that there might be another side to him. This side of him was actually pretty nice.

"Thanks," she said when he handed her a mug. She blew on the hot chocolate before taking a sip.

"We should go on a shopping spree!" Amber suggested suddenly.

Jamie sent her a reluctant glance. She was much stronger and faster than she had been as a human. She could feel the iron-like strength running through her body, but she was also recovering from a bullet wound she'd received just the night before. Her muscles in her side felt a little stretched and sore. Besides, she had never been much of the shopping type.

"Come on," Amber urged. "Besides, we need to get you some contacts. If you dad or brother see you, it might be best if they don't know you're one of us. And Leigh's dad is an optometrist so we'll be able to get some free."

"Okay," Jamie finally agreed.

Jamie looked at herself slowly in the mirror. She looked like her old self again, from before she was a werewolf. The only thing that could possibly give her away was that her walk was a little smoother, her step lighter. The contacts stung her eyes—especially with the heightened 'wolf senses. Her eyes were watering furiously.

"They look perfect on you," Amber commented.

"They don't feel perfect," Jamie replied.

"You'll get used to them."

Jamie nodded. She knew she would eventually. It was necessary and she would get used to them out of necessity. As much as her brother loved her, she knew he wouldn't think twice before shooting a wolf. Even his sister.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"Yeah, yeah, beautiful," Leigh said impatiently as Amber place a pair of sunglasses with pink shades atop her nose. Apparently she wasn't much of a shopper either. "Let's just pay for these and go."

Amber placed the sunglasses back on the rack with a sigh. "I don't know why I shop with you guys. That's what I have my _other_ friends for."

By _other_ friends she meant _human_ friends, Jamie interpreted. Amber didn't mention the term aloud with the attendant standing on, waiting for their decision. The blonde lady gave them a chirpy smile. Leigh had said the woman was a nosy busybody and her father would have hired someone new if he could find someone who could sell half as well. Apparently she had gone through some of Mr. Bennett's things and Leigh's father had been very careful with what he kept lying around ever since. She also had a very white neck.

"Yeah," Jamie muttered, still blinking furiously. "I'll get these ones."

"Great," Leigh said, rubbing her hands together. "Let's go now."

"Okay," Amber said, "but my mother wanted me to buy some chicken on the way home."

Leigh groaned. "Okay. Let's just get moving, all right?"

They all jumped into Amber's bright yellow Saturn that her parent's had bought her for Christmas last year and headed off to the grocery store.

"I'll only take a minute!" Amber said, hopping out of the car.

Leigh turned back to smile on her. "So It's not so bad, is it? Being a werewolf?"

Jamie shook her head, staring across the parking lot at a man standing beside a dark van. "No," she replied while she watched his familiar stance. For some reason she thought she recognized the guy. "Although I had the strangest urge to bite the attendant's neck at your father's store."

"You're getting hungry."

Jamie nodded again. Greying moustache and a firm jaw. Thick muscular arms and a quick walk as he headed into the grocery store. He gripped a shopping cart and the realization hit Jamie. She slowly slid down in her seat below the window. It was a good thing Mr. Rollson hadn't looked in her direction yet. Well, Mr. Rollson was his real name. Most people just knew him as the Slayer. He was as good as the Colonel in his glory days.

Jamie swallowed hard. She doubted Mr. Rollson was the only slayer in town. She bet the Colonel had called in a large group. This wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

"Jamie?" Leigh asked with a strange look.

"Don't look at me!" Jamie hissed. "Just act natural!"

Jamie let out a sigh of relief as Leigh did so. "You see that guy out there?" she said quietly. "He's got quite a record. I think he might have killed more of your kind than my dad."

"You're forgetting something," Leigh answered, managing to speak without moving her lips. "You are one of us now."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Jamie moved around the bits of raw chicken distastefully, her stomach grumbling softly. Her limbs were trembling with a kind of fatigue she'd never felt before. She just couldn't get the thought out of her head that she shouldn't be eating raw meat. As she looked down at the pink substance down on her plate, she felt almost as bad as a cannibal.

It's just a _chicken_, she told herself.

She watched the adults discuss the situation heatedly at the table. Most of the teens were listening in intently, except for Leigh, who seemed intent on brooding outside. She wondered what was wrong with the girl—besides the problems they were all facing.

Porter reached over and forked a piece of raw chicken. He lifted it up to her mouth. "Go on," he suggested. "Eat it. It's not as bad as it looks. Besides, if you go on like this, you're going to starve. And starving werewolves do bad things."

Jamie made as if to bite it, but moved back. She shook her head vehemently. "I can't—"

While her mouth was open, he stuffed the piece inside. She swallowed it down sickly, gagging. "I feel like Bella when I fed her carrots," she remarked and couldn't resist gagging again.

"You need to eat more," Porter said, looking her firmly in the eye. "If you don't, you just might end up attacking the next human you see."

Jamie found eyes sliding away from his. She couldn't stop looking at his neck, she realized, feeling sickly guilty. Porter took hold of her chin gently and lifted her head to look him in the eye again. "No," he said. Jamie almost felt like he was scolding her. "On most occasions, I don't mind if you bite me. But with you this hungry…you're liable to try to rip me apart. The bloodlust does things to you. And you're stronger now."

Jamie grumbled slightly, placing another piece of chicken in her mouth. She swallowed it quickly, so that she would have that slimy uncooked feeling on her tongue. She took another one. It was torture just to finish the plate of food.

"Well, if the bomb isn't in the house—" One of the adult's voices cut above their conversation. It was Mr. Carlyle who was speaking so loudly.

"You just don't want the bomb to be in the house, Mike," Mrs. Hindley responded with a sympathetic glance. "I know it's your child in there. I know you want to save her. And _we_ need to think things through clearly. He told Jamie that he was going to plant a bomb. Yes, she couldn't find it—but it's there somewhere. We can't just go blazing in there, hoping it won't go off! We need a plan—"

"We don't have a good plan—!"

"And we need to know where he's going to station his men. Silver bullets will be flying."

Jamie saw Porter sigh wearily as the adults argued, rubbing his eyes. She understood. She too was tired of all the shouting. She wished, for once, that all the adults would work together and do this right. She knew they weren't seasoned fighters. This was probably the first skirmish they'd ever been in. Saving Alec and his mother, probably none of these people had ever met a real werewolf hunter before. The Colonel, and his friends, was a ruthless bunch and seasoned too. Jamie was worried that the 'wolves wouldn't have a chance, even with their superior strength and speed.

Her eyes darted to the glass doors at the back of the dining room. Leigh was still standing outside in the frigid air with her arms wrapped about herself. The moisture in the air froze as it left her mouth, sending out cloudy white puffs into the night air.

Jamie stood in one swift motion, her muscles perfectly coordinated for the movement. She had never felt so free in her own limbs before this day. She placed a hand on Porter's shoulder and spoke. "I'll be back."

She moved over to the sliding glass door and pushed it aside gently. The cool air burst in on her, making goosebumps rise on her sensitive skin. She stepped out into the night air and shut the door softly behind her.

Leigh took a drag of her cigarette, the end lighting up with the intake. She dropped her wrist to her side and blew outward. She gave Jamie a sideways glance. "Are you here to lecture me on the dangers of smoking? If you are, you might as well turn around and walk right back inside. Amber's been trying for years."

Jamie shook her head. "I wasn't going to say anything about it."

"So you think they're okay then?" Leigh raised her eyebrows.

"No," Jamie replied, "but you'll do whatever you darn well please no matter what I think."

Leigh nodded her head in an almost sharp gesture. She grinned. "Got that right."

Leigh brought the cigarette to her lips again. "Besides, it doesn't hurt me. I'm a 'wolf. My lungs are regenerating as we speak."

"But your mind isn't," Jamie said quietly. "That's why you're still addicted."

Leigh's eyes flared up and then she sighed. She dropped the cigarette and stamped it beneath her foot. She twisted the heel methodically with a wistful glance. "Just for you," she said and lifted a finger pointedly. "And don't expect it to last."

Jamie smiled. She could get used to Leigh's company. The girl's calm demeanor and stout determination were inspiring. And she wasn't afraid to be herself, no matter what anybody else thought.

Leigh leaned into the side of the house. "Then what brought you out here?"

Jamie tried to figure out how to word it. "I wanted to know what was eating at you."

Leigh let out a tiny mocking chuckle. "Nosy are we?"

Jamie just shrugged.

Leigh sighed. She spoke, her voice rising slightly in frustration. "Same thing that's eating at all of us. The parents are clueless. They don't know how to fight. And your father's pulled a different trick than he's ever tried before. We can't even make an educated guess."

Jamie elbowed her lightly in the side. "No worries. When the bad stuff starts rolling, I got your back."

"And I you," Leigh said with a sigh.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It infuriated Jamie that she couldn't figure out what the Colonel and Doug were up to. She, who knew them best of all, didn't have a clue. She was sure the explosives weren't in the house. But they had to be close enough to the job. They had probably planted several, calculating to the very inch to see how far the destruction would spread. They knew the group was large and that they would be scattered.

So what would she do if she had the same goal? Jamie bit her lip. She would probably place the bombs about the property in different locations to cause as much trouble as possible. The only problem was that you couldn't hide silver coated bombs the scraggly bushes that dotted the property. They would stand out like hairy moles on a face.

And if the Colonel had his troops to pick off the few survivors, he wouldn't want his men near the house. It helped the Colonel to have the cover of dark. It was to his advantage. Any possible cars driving on the highway that night probably wouldn't notice anything unless they happened to drive by during the big explosion—and precious few drove along that road anyway. Despite this, Jamie bet the Colonel would keep his men away from the road. They would hide in the hills behind the property and pick off any survivors with their bullets. Jamie knew how to counter this move.

The one in the most danger would be Bella...and her rescuer. Only one person would have to risk their life for Bella's sake. It was her fault Bella had even been caught in the first place. She should be the one to go. Besides, the other ones had families to care for and families who loved them. She had the least connections and the least to lose.

She finally crawled out of her covers Friday morning after hours of debating. It seemed so silly to go to school after all she had been through. It felt so mundane and pointless. Just tests and workbooks and teachers who had too much perfume on. She felt as though her time would be better spent planning their attack.

Jamie's feet touched the soft carpet. Amber was still snoring softly in the bed next to her futon. A glance at the clock told her that it was still pretty early. It almost would have been easier to cover herself up again and not come out. Jamie doubted Mrs. Carlyle would allow her to do so. Mrs. Carlyle was paid a lot more attention to her moods than the Colonel ever had. Jamie honestly couldn't say that she liked it. She wasn't used to having people meddling in her life.

Jamie moved through Amber's drawers again, searching for an outfit that she could possibly see herself wearing. Porter had dropped Jamie's backpack carrying her clothes in the field that day when Doug had run after them.

Jamie finally slipped into a forest green shirt that hugged to her uncomfortably. She was able to push the thought from her mind better than the first day. It was better when she didn't constantly feel like a deer in the headlights. She slipped into a pair of black dress pants and hurried down the stairs.

The smell of raw steak being prepared reached her nose. Disgust and anticipation fought a battle in her stomach. Jamie had licked her lips before she realized what she was doing. I'm turning into a regular 'wolf, she thought, grimly amused.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Carlyle responded without turning as Jamie pattered softly into the kitchen. The cool linoleum touched her bare feet as she moved to the blonde woman's side. Mrs. Carlyle had made some spicy sauce and was spreading it over the meat methodically.

"I think I've got an idea," Jamie told her, "about how to fight the Colonel."

So she told the woman every detail, breaking up bits of parsley at Mrs. Carlyle's urging. She finished finally. "So, it's not much of a plan, but it's better than nothing."

"Could you sprinkle the parsley over the meat?" Mrs. Carlyle responded.

Jamie took a handful and spread the leafy bits over their breakfast methodically. Mrs. Carlyle seemed to think about what Jamie had said for a while. Her eyes were faraway and she hummed softly to herself as she dished equal helpings on to each plate. Jamie helped her place the food around the table.

"I like your plan," Mrs. Carlyle said finally, placing a fork beside each plate. "It may not be complete, but it's better than what we've got. There's only one problem with it that I can see."

"And that is?" Jamie asked.

"You," Mrs. Carlyle responded. "I don't want you to go down to the house. We could set up a small group to find Bella."

"But–" Jamie protested.

"No buts," Mrs. Carlyle announced, lifting a finger. "I know you feel responsible. I know you think it's your job to go down there, but we need you to lead the others. You know the Colonel. You know how he fights. And," Mrs. Carlyle lifted her finger again as Jamie attempted to protest once more. She closed her mouth, allowing the woman to finish. "And you've had a lot of experience with tactics and fighting. It's what you were raised with. I feel terrible allowing you to go at all, seeing as you were just shot a couple days ago. You've been through enough as it is. But the plain truth of it is that we need you. I don't know if we can do it without you."

Jamie wanted to protest again. She felt as though she should be the one to help Bella. She had promised the little girl that she would get her out. It was her duty. But the other woman was right. She did know the Colonel the best.

"The other kids will have to stay home, of course," Mrs. Carlyle was going on more to herself than to Jamie.

Jamie bit her lip, trying not to smile. She bet if Amber were near, she would protest at being called a child. If she knew Amber–and the other three–then they just weren't going to sit at home while the parents put themselves in mortal danger. They'd find some way to be there, no matter what.

Jamie decided to include the other four in her tactics right from the beginning. If she did, then she wouldn't have a messy situation when the opportunity presented itself. If everybody didn't act in perfect coordination, then this was going to be one huge disaster. Any battle fought without plans was a disaster.


	19. Chapter 19

**To my readers: The story's almost over, so take the chance to review now! Please?**

**To Isnil and Ande: Thanks for all your review and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter 19

The door closed with a quiet clicking sound behind Jamie's back. If anyone had heard it, they weren't paying attention. They hadn't likely with the noise coming out of the child's lungs. Jake had Leigh's dark hair and gypsy blue eyes, but he had none of her composure. Jamie wanted to slap her hands over her sensitive ears, but she suspected that would only escalate the situation.

"I'm coming too! If you can go, I can! I don't have to stay here with Connor!" Jake was going on like the world was going to end. He had quite the set of lungs for a ten-year-old boy. "He's a cry baby!"

Four-year-old Connor's big blue eyes were tearing up. He picked up the train from his train set and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a resounding clatter. "I'm not a cry baby!"

"Yes you are! Cry baby! Cry baby!" Jake taunted.

Jamie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She could feel a headache coming on. She understood now, why Leigh had such patience. Little siblings would bring that reaction about in anyone. There was only so many times a person could get annoyed before the fighting would just wash over with little effect. Jamie wished she were to that point.

She took Porter's outstretched hand, lacing her fingers through his. She sat down, leaning comfortably into his black-clad form. Alec and Amber were cuddling in the corner, also clothed in dark colors. Alec's lip had curled disdainfully at the two arguing children.

"Enough!" Leigh spoke loud enough to be heard.

Surprisingly, Jake obeyed. Connor began to take apart the railroad tracks with big gulping breaths. He couldn't seem to keep from sniffling.

The biker girl sighed and squatted to pick up the child. Connor hid his face in her leather jacket while Leigh rummaged through her pocket. She pulled out twenty dollars and waved it for Jake to see. She offered, "If I pay you will you take care of the tyke?"

Jake's eyes lit up greedily and Jamie could feel he wanted it. Then he frowned at Leigh. "Do you think I'm that cheap?"

Leigh rolled her eyes. "You got to learn to hide your emotions. Take it or leave it."

Jake snatched the money from her hand.

Connor was sliding low in Leigh's grasp. She used her knee to boost him back up again, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I'm going to ask him how you treated him when I get home," Leigh warned Jake.

"I said I'd take care of him, all right?" Jake growled.

"So what do you have for us?" Leigh asked Jamie to change the subject.

Jamie leaned forward and pulled the map from her back pocket. She'd managed to get a couple of them from the Gas Station yesterday. The adults wouldn't notice if one of the copies went missing. She unfolded it before her apt audience. She smoothed the crinkles with a hand.

"This is where we'll be coming in," Jamie said, drawing a line from the tiny road up through the countryside. "It's an easier climb than what you'll be doing. We'll probably get there before you do. I want you to come in through this direction. The main thing is to stop them from picking off Mr. Carlyle while he tries to go into the mansion."

"We're leaving right now?" Amber asked, looking out to glance through an open window. Light still streamed in across the room, creating a rectangular lighted area. The sun wouldn't be going down for another couple of hours. Jamie checked her watch. It wasn't quite six.

Jamie nodded. "The bomb will go off right at midnight. We need to get Bella out long before that. Besides, the enemy's going to be camped out since like now—if they haven't been keeping watch all week. They're going to be prepared and so should we."

"But how's my dad going to hide?" Amber asked.

"There's one scraggly bush that's a little larger than the rest. I was hoping, if he could sneak up right after the sun's gone down, he could hide there until we give him the signal. He'll be right in that muddy area, so hopefully it's dried up by now or he'll have a really hard time running anywhere."

The others were nodding thoughtfully.

"Is everyone clear on what they need to do?" Jamie asked.

"What about weapons?" Alec asked.

"Your mother managed to get a hold on some. I don't know how she did it, but they'll be useful," Jamie replied. "There's a whole load of them down in the den. Once the parents have gone through with them and we've left—you can have your pick."

Porter nodded, touching her cheek. "Take care of yourself."

She smiled, wanting to kiss him just then, but not wanting to do so with such a large audience. She settled for a hug instead. There was just something so comfortable about being in his arms. Jamie could have stayed there forever. She pulled back, knowing this wasn't an option. "Make sure you do to," she said.

She turned to the others, pulling herself smoothly to her feet. "I'd better get back," she said. "I told the adults I was just taking a bathroom break. They'll start to get suspicious."

"Constipation," the ten-year-old boy snickered. "Con-sti-pa-tion."

Jamie rolled her eyes, keeping hold of Porter's outstretched hand a moment longer. Their fingers separated and she headed for the door. The cold air rushed back in, touching her sides where Porter had been a moment before. It reminded her of how alone she was. But I'm brave, she thought, hoping to affect her psychological state.

If it had been any other battle, she would have been brave. But the thought of running head-to-head with either the Colonel or Doug scared her. If it came down to hurting them—even possibly killing them—she didn't know if she could do it.

She hurried back to the washroom where she had left an outfit folded by the sink. She shut the door behind her and pulled the green shirt over her head. It hid her black, form-fitting top marvelously. She took a pair of fashionable loose green sweatpants—and pair Amber's—and pulled them over the black, hip hugging pants. It was too light yet to be wearing pure black. She'd stick out like a sore thumb. But this would do nicely until she needed to change. The adults had also opted for green clothing like hers. The others would be coming up the steep side, so they wouldn't reach the Colonel until after dark.

Jamie moved down to the den where the adults were picking through the weapons scattered across the floor. Guns of every kind—illegal kinds. And some knives and sword-like blades for close range. There were even some sticks and staffs with their ends carved into sharp, needlepoints. Mrs. Hindley's supplier was clearly superstitious, Jamie thought, getting a picture of a vampire in her mind. But then, who would have thought werewolves existed either. Just thinking the word werewolf sharpened her teeth right up. She knew there was a feral glint in her eye.

Jamie hadn't changed to full wolf before. To be truthful, she was afraid to. She was afraid that she would lose control of herself. She was afraid she would become a wild beast that preyed upon humans and didn't differentiate them from the squirrels hiding in the bushes. She would only do so as a last resort.

She picked up a small, snub-nosed revolver. A semi-automatic. She tucked it in the band of her pants and smoothed her shirt over it, so the lump barely showed. She caught sight of something else, a smooth-bladed dagger. Silver, she knew immediately. She picked up the object, entranced. One cut from this, and her blood wouldn't clot properly. She would bleed continually until she was able to get some TryptoKeri in her system. But it had a comforting weight, like the dagger she carried around before she had joined the 'wolf side. She sheathed it carefully and placed it in the leg of her pants. It may have been poison to her, but it would hurt them as well.

The doctor moved to her side, handing her a small bottle sloshing with a dark liquid. The adults all had identical bottles. TryptoKeri. "Keep it with you," he said, "in case you get hurt."

"Thank you, Mr. Maxwell," she said with a wan smile.

She opened her mouth again and said. "I've noticed you have an especially quiet step. You and I are going to move ahead of the group—to pick off the scouts before we're spotted."

The doctor nodded, lifting up his bottle of TrytoKeri as if he were making a toast. "To the element of surprise."

Jamie turned and spoke to the group loud and clear. "Are we ready to go?"


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A group of six cars pulled into the Riverside Diner. Jamie sat in the back seat of the first car, her knees knocked with the turning motion. The doctor and his wife sat in front of her. The doctor pulled the car back into first and pulled on the emergency break before the car could roll back down the slight incline.

Mrs. Maxwell took the knife that was gripped in her hand and placed it in a loose pocket where it would not be noticed. The Riverside Diner had a few guests. It was one of the more upscale restaurants in Lampton Hill. It was a good way out of town and more than a few miles to the Henderson mansion. There were only back roads from here on out. Jamie thought it best if they walked. She didn't want the Colonel to catch sight of cars parked in his general location.

The other cars parked alongside each other and several figures stepped free of the cars. Jamie and Porter's parents jumped out to meet them. Jamie hugged her arms to her body as a cold breeze blew across her arms. It was getting cold and Jamie bet by the time night fell it would be absolutely glacial.

"Care for something to eat?" Jamie asked the parents, nudging her head toward the Riverside Diner. Long windows faced toward the parking lot and toward the river. The windows were framed by vines and the bushes beneath contained spotlights that cast a soft glow on the building in the early evening.

The parents looked at her dubiously.

"Look," Jamie said, glancing at her watch. "We have some time to kill. It's only seven o'clock and I don't want us all barging up there together. Mr. Maxwell and I are going to scout ahead and see who's hiding in the bush. I don't want the rest of you to start climbing the hills until half past eight."

"But," Mrs. Maxwell protested, waving her arms at her green outfit. "We're not dressed for the occasion. They're sure to wonder."

"And they're sure to be suspicious if we park our cars here and all head off in a group," Jamie replied with a glance out of the corner of her eyes. One of the waitresses was looking at the group expectantly from inside the Diner, smoothing pressed white shirt and black apron. "Tell them you just came from a Save-the-Environment meeting."

Finally Mrs. Maxwell sighed and nodded. She muttered, "I won't be able to eat tonight. I feel so worked up."

Mrs. Carlyle turned to Jamie, "You've got my cell number?"

Jamie nodded. "On speed dial. And Mr. Carlyle's," she said, turning to Amber's father. He was standing next to his wife, shifting back and forth between his feet. Edgy but determined; it was the only way to describe his expression. "Are you ready to head to the mansion?"

He nodded, giving his wife a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll keep you posted."

Jamie nodded. "And don't go too close to the house. I know it'll be hard, but don't. I'll call you when it's time to get Bella."

The man nodded, looking a little annoyed at being ordered around by a young girl. She couldn't blame him. She didn't like being ordered about either. This situation would be like Jamie being bossed about by Leigh's little brother, Jake.

"Thanks," she said to alleviate the situation. "And good luck."

Mr. Carlyle nodded to her and hurried to his car. He guided the vehicle around the large group and drove out of the parking lot.

"Are you guys ready?" Jamie chattered, shivering slightly.

The adults nodded. The doctor gave his wife a kiss and the group headed toward the bright lights. Jamie and the doctor stood back, watching the group go. She scuffed her shoe against the concrete, out waiting another frosty breeze. Goose pimples rose on her arms beneath the two layers of clothing. She shrugged her shoulders as if she could push the cold away like dropping a coat. Soon she would barely be able to feel it—once her skin was acclimated to the temperature.

She sent a sideways glance to the doctor. "Ready to go?"

The doctor sighed and nodded, his blue eyes troubled. Jamie hadn't noticed until that moment, how much his eyes resembled Porter's. Midnight silver blue and wistful, as if the world had just crashed at his feet. But determined too. He wasn't going to let this crush him. Jamie managed a half-smile. If Porter couldn't be at her side, then this man was as good a substitute as she was going to get.

"I hope I see her again," his eye yearned after his retreating wife and his mustache brushed against his upper lip as another breeze rustled through the parking lot.

"You will," Jamie said although she wasn't sure if she believed it. She knew she was putting Mr. Maxwell in danger by bringing him scouting with her. Se had no right to do it, yet she did not want to be alone. She was scared. Terrified, even. If she had no witness, no person to push her forward and to put his trust in her, she was afraid she might turn on them. She believed in their cause with all her heart—she truly did. But could she kill the Colonel? Could she kill Doug?

She bit her lip hard. She had that salty metal taste in her mouth—like blood. She said quietly, "You don't have to come with me."

"But _you_ need me," the doctor replied, eying her warily. "You forget I can read your emotions like a book. I trust you, Jamie. But I'm also coming with you."

She smiled with relief.

"Thank you," she said. "You don't know what this means to me."

He gave her a wry glance. "I just might have an inkling."  
The two trudged out of the parking lot and into the trees. The river rushed gaily to their left and their feet made audible crunching noises in the autumn leaves. Jamie cringed and watched her step as they made their way up the steady slope. The lights from the diner were being left farther and farther behind. Finally, the trees swallowed up the building completely.

Jamie was getting tired of this uphill climb. After twenty steady minutes she was becoming short of breath. She was glad to see the ground was leveling out—at least for the time being. They would climb again before they met up with the Colonel's camp. She still didn't know exactly where the camp was, but she had a pretty good idea. He would need a good view of the Henderson home for his snipers to pick off unsuspecting 'wolves.

She strained her ears hard, ever listening. The only sound she heard was the sound of their breathing softly and the occasional sound of her foot scuffing grass. The sounds were so faint that no human ears would have been able to pick them up. 'Wolf ears could barely do the trick.

After they had been moving for what seemed like forever, Jamie took a glance at her watch. It was almost eight-thirty. Jamie's stomach churned nervously. The group would be leaving the restaurant soon. Jamie took the cell phone and pressed the speed dial to Mr. Carlyle's cell. He picked up immediately.

"I'm here," he whispered on a breath. Even at that level, Jamie could hear the tremor in his voice.

"Are you okay?" She asked nervously, jamming her free hand in her pocket.

"Yeah," the man replied. "I just forgot to turn my phone to vibrate. It started to ring and I thought the sensors would pick it up. I caught it before it had even been ringing a tenth of a second."

Jamie smiled into the phone, forgetting that he couldn't see her—and he wasn't close enough to feel her emotions. She suddenly realized how vapid conversation was with human beings. It was like talking on the phone—never truly being able to hear.

"What's your position?" Jamie asked, feeling like an army commander. Who else used the word position in such a way?

"Behind the big bush. Is it time for me to go yet?" he asked hopefully.

"Not yet," she replied. "Sit tight."

"Don't make me wait too much longer," the man warned. "My daughter's in there."

"Yeah," Jamie replied, surprised at the harshness in her voice. I sound like the Colonel, she thought sickly. "And she'll still be in there if you leave your cover now. Stay put."

Jamie tried to apologize for her harsh tone, but the words wouldn't come out. She couldn't manage it. She was still too shocked at the Colonel that had come out of her. I'm not him, she thought, biting her sore lip. I will not be like him.

"You're doing good," Jamie managed finally. "Just sit tight."

She hung up the phone and squeezed her eyes tight. She still managed to walk perfectly silent with the picture that was engraved on the back of her eyelids. She let out a short sigh.

The doctor put a hand to her shoulder and she looked up at him. "Easy does it now, " he said. "You can do it. Don't let this trip get to you."

She nodded. I'm not like him, she repeated. Or was she?

The sound of a foot crackling in the leaves reached her ears. Jamie ducked behind a tree. The doctor sped to the tree opposite hers. Jamie stood as still as a statue, her body in perfect line with the tree. She took a glance at the doctor, who would be just barely hidden from view from the direction of the crackling sound. Jamie could imagine how hard it would be to hide his broad shoulders behind that trunk.

Here's the first of the scouts, she thought grimly. She took care to breath as little as possible. Her heart pumped slowly within her chest like the heart of an Olympic athlete. Jamie imagined she could practically pretend she was dead with how slowly her heart moved.

There wasn't another crackle for another long time. She wished the scout's feet would make some noise. Any noise. So that she could track his path with her ears. This was no amateur, she realized. His footwork was as good as hers when she had been human. Or Doug's.

She crouched lower down the trunk, her muscles trembling with anticipation as she forced them to be steadily alert. She could feel the wolf in her raring for a hunt. He would have such a nice soft neck, if she just jerked…

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the thought from her mind. I do not bite humans, she thought fiercely. No matter if he had killed thousand of 'wolves in his career as a hunter. She would not let the 'wolf overtake her.

There was another crackle. The scout was coming closer now. She could hear his breath moving quietly within his chest. She could almost hear his heart pumping the blood through his veins, almost taste…

Jamie cut that thought short too, sickened with herself. With her nature.

No matter, the clear part of her mind responded. There's no time for hunt daydreams. She was tracking his every move with her ears. He was coming up toward them unsuspectingly. If he had known they were there, his step would have been a little more hesitant.

She could feel the Colonel readying himself as well. They were coordinated perfectly. They would spring at exactly the same moment, taking their prey down before he could put up a fight.

The seconds ticked slowly down as the scout moved even closer.

They sprung. About three hundred pounds of combined weight rushed toward a dark-haired figure. Doug fell to the ground with a soft cry. Both she and the doctor each had a knee cutting into his ribs, pinning him. Jamie used her other knee to keep Doug's arm in place. Her muscles quivered with strength and pent up anger.

Doug's eyes were wild for only a moment. They focused on her face, hurt and confused. His gaunt jaw sagged and the expression on his face seared her soul. Her heart felt as though it would break.

"Jamie," he whispered. "How could you betray us?"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Jamie took no time to answer his questions. Upon the suggestion sent from the doctor's mind, they flipped him on his back. Mr. Maxwell pulled out some rope and began to truss Doug up tightly. She helped him, and tried not to think about what she was doing. If she thought too much, she would lose her nerve.

The tears that filled her eyes were beginning to spill over onto her cheeks. She brushed them aside angrily and got to work on his feet.

"They're lying to you, Jamie," Doug's angry voice was slightly muffled with his face squashed into the leaves. "They're evil. How could you forget that?"

Jamie said one word. "No."

She and the doctor pulled Doug to his feet and bound him to the tree.

"Yes," he grated. "How can you be so blind?"

"I look fine," she said. She knew she shouldn't respond but she did anyway. "I've been living with them all week. They haven't touched a hair on my head."

Doug's eyes blazed at this. If his hands had been free, he would have punched something right then. "Of course they haven't touched you! How could they dangle you before our eyes if you were harmed?"

He stopped and breathed for a moment, calming himself. "Jamie, I want to save you." His voice cracked then. "I do, Jamie. Let me save you. I'm not lying to you. I would never lie to you."

Jamie reached a trembling hand out to Doug's shoulder and sighed. At least she wasn't crying right then. Well, not really. Her eyes were a little wet. "I know you're not lying, Doug. You're just deceived."

"No I'm not! Jamie, just listen to me!"

"He's been lying to us!" Jamie cried out above Doug's voice. "Dad's been lying to us. Not intentionally, but he has. He's wanted to believe so bad…he's wanted to believe that 'wolves are evil. But they're not. They're just like us. Sure, there's evil 'wolves too—just like humans. But not all of them."

Doug's eyes were transfixed to her face. Incredulity crossed every inch if his face. He was shaking his head at her.

"No," he was whispering. She could tell he was saying it as much to himself as to her. "They've tricked you."

Just then, Jamie's cell phone vibrated. She took it from her pocket, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Hello?"

"Jamie, honey?" Mrs. Carlyle's voice sounded in her ear.

"Have you left the restaurant yet?" Jamie asked anxiously, trying to take her eyes off Doug's accusing face.

"Yes. We left ten minutes ago…but Jamie? We took the car. We had a bad feeling about this. We want to get caught up to you. We can hide the car up in the woods once we've found you."

Jamie could hear the faint sound of a car engine in the distance. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Mrs. Carlyle was only doing what she thought was right. She wouldn't blame the woman for doing so—even if she was acting rashly.

"I think you've almost found us," Jamie said into the phone.

Headlights appeared out from between the trees, driving where no car should go. There just wasn't enough room in these woods for a wide bulky vehicle, but the group was managing all right.

"I see you," Mrs. Carlyle responded.

Jamie waved slightly and turned off the phone.

Doug stared dubiously at the approaching car before his eyes switched back to Jamie's face. He snorted derisively and spoke in a condescending tone. "I thought the Colonel would have his work cut out for him—but I was wrong. They're practically jumping right into the fry pan. You'd think they wanted to get shot at."

The adults piled out of the car and rushed toward them. Jamie was surprised they had all fit in the first place. It must have been a tight squeeze. They stopped up short, eying the captive warily.

"What does he know?" Mrs. Carlyle asked.

Jamie shrugged. "Haven't asked him."

Mrs. Carlyle gave her an oddly accusing glance.

Jamie turned back to Doug as the werewolves circled closer. She could see the feral glints in their silver eyes. She knew what they were thinking. She was barely allowing her mind to run along that train of thought herself. How he would taste—even with the sinewy muscles. Sure, he'd be a little tough chewing, but nothing too distasteful.

Jamie closed her eyes. She couldn't believe she was thinking this about her own brother. If only she'd eaten more at supper, but she hadn't been able to stomach much with thoughts of the night ahead.

She also felt her shoulder's stiffen protectively. She knew the others wouldn't bite Doug—even if they wanted to. They had their policies on humans. But she couldn't help feeling a little territorial. He was her brother. Her prey.

Not prey, she told herself.

Jamie looked Doug straight in the eye, trying to ignore the adults. She folded her arms across her chest. "Well, Doug? Where is the Colonel? Where is the bomb?"

Doug only gave her a dark look, like a wounded animal ready to strike out.

"Fine," Jamie said. "You won't tell me? I'll make you."

"You can't make me, Jamie," Doug said firmly. "You can't make me do anything."

She couldn't believe what she was saying, even as she said it. She knew right then, it was the only solution. She could hurt him, torture him, even—and he would still keep his silence. There was only one thing he feared more than anything else. And she hated herself for dangling the idea in front of his face.

"I'll bite you," she threatened.

Doug frowned, refusing to understand. "What are you talking about?"

It was then that Jamie realized the contacts were still in her eyes. She lifted her hands to her eyes and peeled them away. She gripped his chin and made him stare her right in the eye. She knew what he would see. Dark pools of brown, surrounded by an unmistakable ring of silver.

His eyes went from surprise to disgust to utter revulsion. He swallowed hard, as though he was trying to keep bile from rising up his throat. And he probably was. Jamie hadn't prepared herself for the sickening wave of his disgust. She couldn't feel him the way she could feel the wolves, but the wave washed over her anyway. Her own feelings mirrored in his eyes.

"You filth!" He screamed wildly at the others watching. "How could you do this to my sister? I hate you!"

Then his eyes turned to hers, his teeth gritted. There was bitter self-mocking in his voice. "No wonder you're on their side. I should have known. They took away your heart. You're not my sister anymore."

"I am your sister," Jamie felt another tear trace down her cheek. She couldn't believe he was saying this to her.

"You just look like her," he said darkly. "You're evil."

The tears were running down her face freely now.

"Don't try to trick me. It won't work."

She gripped the front of his shirt with her hands. To anyone watching, it must have looked like she was threatening him. She held on tight, trying to keep her feet from swaying. She didn't know how much more she could take.

"I will bite you," she threatened again. His face swam before her eyes. "If you don't tell me what I need to know, I'll bite you."

Doug smiled darkly, but Jamie could see the weariness beneath the bitter smile. He leaned back into the trunk wearily. All the fight seemed to have gone out of him.

"It's too late," he told her. He sent an icy glance at the adults. "The Colonel knew _they_ would come early. The bomb's set to go off at ten."

Jamie's heart jumped into her throat. Her watch told her it was quarter to ten. It would take her fifteen minutes just to get down to the house. She lifted the speed the phone and punched the speed dial. It wasn't too late to call Mr. Carlyle. That's why he was down there, anyway.

A volley of shots rang out loudly. Jamie stared at the phone dumbly. She was fine. They were all fine. It must have been Mr. Carlyle. She put the phone to her ear, speaking frantically. She paced back and forth. "Mr. Carlyle, are you there? Mr. Carlyle? Answer me!"

She faintly heard Mrs. Carlyle screaming in the background. "Mitch? Is he all right? Just tell me! Is he all right?"

The shots continued in the background like a constant drum. Jamie had to place a hand over her other ear, just to be able to hear. The sound was still deafening.

"Jamie?" A voice finally answered, groaning.

"Mr. Carlyle, are you all right?"

"I've been shot in the foot," he managed with a wince. "It hurts. Bad. And I can't stop the bleeding. It's silver."

"What about the TryptoKeri?"

"What? Oh y—eah!" He finished with another wince.

"Great. And when you do, I want you to go and get Bella. Do you hear me?" she yelled over the shots. "That bomb is going to go off in fifteen minutes! Less!"

A cry of pain reached her ears. It was so loud that Jamie squinted with the sound.

"Mr. Carlyle? Mr. Carlyle?" She repeated insistently. He had to be okay. He just had to. He was their only hope.

There was no reply.


	22. Chapter 22

**Incarnated soul: Thanks for your reviews. Trust me; I didn't get tired of them. It was fun to read through all of them. They put a smile on my face.**

**Also, for those who haven't reviewed yet. There's a button at the bottom of the screen!**

Chapter 22

Jamie pressed the other speed dial button. Her heart was hammering a mile a minute and nothing she did seemed to quiet it. She pressed the phone to her ear and took a deep breath. The fact that Mrs. Carlyle was acting hysterical in the background wasn't helping any. Jamie paced nervously until a cool voice answered the phone.

She gritted her teeth, trying not to scream. It would have been nice to get a release, but not with the Colonel's base no more than a mile from here. She was rattling too many nerves and everything was turning out wrong. All her perfectly laid out plans were falling to pieces.

"Hello?" Amber asked in a bored and irritated tone.

Jamie was glad Amber was the one to answer the phone. She didn't know why. The thought was rather absurd. Amber was the most likely to fall into hysterics—seeing as her father was the one who had just been shot.

"Where are you at?" Autumn leaves whispered beneath her black hiking boots as she paced.

"Is that my daughter?" Mrs. Carlyle was demanding heatedly. "Don't you tell me you brought her into this? First Bella, then my husband, and now her?"

Jamie tried to tune the woman out guiltily.

"Climbing up this stupid slope," Amber complained. "Jamie? Is that my mother?"

Sure is, Jamie thought, feeling touchy and worn. She would have liked to have thrown something right then, but she had to keep her cool. But her cool was running bare and she doubted it would last much longer.

What Jamie said was: "How close are you to the top?"

"Not even half way."

"Is there anyway you can climb faster?"

"If we turn wolf," a contemplative voice answered. It was Leigh. She must have been listening over Amber's shoulder. "We could be there in a couple minutes."

"Then that's what I want you to do," Jamie replied, trying not to sound too impatient. "Get up there and start causing problems."

Jamie turned to the parents, especially to the livid Mrs. Carlyle, speaking over top of the phone. "You too! If you want this to work then get up there and wreak havoc!"

Surprisingly, the adults obeyed her. Even the frantic Mrs. Carlyle was beginning to sprout hair across her clear face. Maybe it was because she was the only one speaking authoritatively in all this chaos. Or maybe it was because no one else had any better ideas. It didn't really matter.

Jamie had to concentrate on getting down to the Henderson home in time.

"What are you going to do?" Amber's voice crackled in her ear.

For a second, Jamie almost forgot that she still had the phone. "I'm going down there to get Bella. If I can. But if you guys can't distract the enemy, I won't make it."

I probably won't make it anyway, Jamie thought grimly. But she had to try.

"What about my dad?" Amber asked. "I thought…"

"I—he was hit," Jamie answered truthfully. "I don't think he's doing so hot."

"I'm coming with you!" Amber said suddenly.

"No!" Jamie realized she was speaking harshly and softened her tone. "No. The others will need as much help as they can get."

"Why don't you go—" Amber began.

"I can't!" Jamie's voice cracked as she cut the other girl off. Her eyes were filling with tears, giving her only a blurry picture of the adults. No, _wolves_. They were wolves now. And not the half-human half-wolf creatures that she saw in movies. Real, gloriously beautiful wolves, with thick and shiny coats. One turned to her with feral yellow eyes and an abrupt nod of his muzzle, and instinctively she knew it was the doctor. Even as she was speaking they were rushing off into the thicket. "Don't you see? I'll ruin everything!"

"You won't betray us, Jamie," Amber said firmly. It hadn't even taken her a moment to realize what Jamie was trying to say. "You won't!"

Jamie took a deep shuddering breath. She didn't understand how Amber could be so sure. Amber, who had never taken her at face value. Jamie could feel the uncertainty reverberating through her own soul. "I can't trust myself. _I can't_. Amber, I'm scared of what I'll do if I go up there. Please! Go in my place."

"Jamie—"

"I know I can save Bella!" Jamie continued. "I know it's something I can do without betraying you. I want to see her safe."

Amber sighed in resignation. "Bring my sister back safely, you hear? And keep yourself safe too. If you die then I won't have anyone to drag on shopping trips with me."

"What about Leigh?" Jamie asked with a groan.

"I've given up on her. She's hopeless."

"Good luck," Jamie replied, hurrying through the trees in the direction of the Henderson house.

After a short pause, Amber replied. "You too."

Jamie took one backward glance as she hung up the phone. The only soul left behind her was trussed tightly to a tree. His eyes seared her with a look of wounded betrayal. All of their childhood, they had stuck together, protecting each other from the brunt of the Colonel's hatred. When he had become so angry that he had tried to take it out on them. Doug had always been there to protect her from a sound slap, and she had also been there to comfort him.

And now she had betrayed him.

The confusion in his eyes hurt so much that she felt her chest seize.

Jamie hurried away quickly, before the guilt could drown her. She moved at a steady gait through the trees. Then she began to change. It was a conscious decision. She could feel the fur itching along her arms. It was all she could do to keep walking. She wished she could stop and scratch.

It was the only way. She had to become a wolf or she would never get down there fast enough. And if she lost herself in the process, at least the wolf would have enough instinct to save her own kind. She would save Bella no matter what. As the wolf nose protruded from her face, her heightened senses double significantly. Yes, she could smell Bella. Even from here.

Her clothes were beginning to rip as her body twisted, her joints changing and reversing. She was out of the trees now. She could only hope the others had arrived in time.

For the first few moments, no one seemed to notice her. Then the shooting started. Jamie took off, landing on her hands hard. Her fingers were shriveling to paws. She shot across the ground at an astronomical pace. The wolf in her didn't like the loud noises. It was disconcerting; terrifying. She turned her head back to bare her teeth at the men on the hill, still only half wolf.

A bullet whistled by her ear. A near miss.

She snapped out of it suddenly. The wolf was going to kill her if she let it. She took off at a run toward the Henderson home, her legs screaming. They were oddly deformed. She wasn't wolf yet, but she wasn't human either. It hurt to run.

Something slammed into the back of her leg with a dull thunk. She flew, head over heals for a few paces before flopping to the ground. Her face fell into hard packed dirt, her stomach felt as though it would slam into her face. The ground was no longer mud, she realized distantly. She'd been hit. That much she knew. So why didn't it hurt?


	23. Chapter 23

Ande: Thanks for your last review. I like Doug too. Whether or not things turn out good for him will be determined in Chapter 24. You'll just have to wait and read.

Chapter 23

By the time Jamie hit the dirt she was almost fully werewolf. Somehow, she had lost hold of the TryptoKeri a while ago. It would have been useful right about now, with silver bullets whizzing overhead. Funny how she only thought about these kinds of things when she actually needed them.

Her legs no longer hurt from running with malfunctioning joints. Her clothes were in tatters, barely clinging to her. The strange part about it was that the fir was growing over top of her ripped and distorted clothing, fusing the material into her veins and tissues; changing it to become a part of her. One thing had refused to become a part of her body: the silver knife fell to the ground the moment the cloth holding it in place became a part of her leathery pelt. There was a weird silvery mark in the weapon. A bullet was embedded in the blade. The bullet that was intended for her.

She was fully wolf now. She shot across the ground toward the house. Another bullet nearly grazed her side. The round object flew passed her so fast that she nearly couldn't track it with her eyes. It crashed through a back window into the Henderson mansion. Jamie plowed in after it, falling to the wooden floorboards.

She only lie there an instant before jumping up on all fours. Another bullet flew through the window, embedding itself into the wall. Jamie couldn't help the growl that erupted from her throat. She sniffed around with her wet nose.

There was a little girl in the next room. Jamie could smell her tears—smell her fear. She could also smell that faint, doggy scent of a little werecub. She trotted quickly into the next room, and moved up to the girl in the center of the room. She was tied to a wooden support that held up the second floor—or was attempting to. If Bella struggled too much, she just might bring a portion of the upper level down on her head.

She nudged the little girl's sweaty blond hair and determined cheek with her muzzle. The girl's face was riveted with exertion from struggling to remove her hands from behind the pole. She stopped for a moment, to sniff Jamie gently.

"Jamie," the child whispered, knowingly. "You're different now."

Jamie didn't have time for conversation—and besides, she couldn't speak in this form. Not in the normal sense of the word, anyway. She could still send her emotions to the girl. Her worries and care and love for the little child. For her innocence and simplicity. No one had the right to harm a child. But she didn't have time to dwell on this at the moment. She needed to get Bella untied. The bomb was set to explode any minute.

She set to work, gnawing at the ropes that held Bella's wrists. There was a lot of rope. The Colonel had wound Bella's hands several times to ensure she didn't have a chance at an easy escape. It took several precious minutes before the ropes fell to the floor, completely severed by sharp fangs.

Jamie leaned over so that the child could jump onto her back. Bella reached one leg over her back and settled on as comfortably as possible. She wound her hands into the fur at Jamie's neck, pinching the skin slightly. Jamie would have said, "Hold tight!" if she could have spoken. As it turned out, she didn't need to. Bella was already holding on for dear life.

Jamie's eyes searched the front room, automatically locating the window she had come through the night she had been shot. She bolted straight for the wall just below the shattered window. Bits of broken glass cut into her sensitive paws and her wolf form winced painfully.

She couldn't lose momentum though. She moved into a running jump, springing from her back legs. Bella's head ducked into her fur as they flew through the window. It was a good thing she did or her head would have bonked on the wooden support that had crashed through the window.

Jamie landed on all fours, glass tinkling beneath her feet as it scattered. She needed to get off the porch. Now. She had the feeling the bomb would erupt any minute. They had to be as far away as possible—just in case.

Thankfully the Colonel and his men had stopped firing bullets in her direction. The sound of gunshots was still very vivid in her ears. Their was a battle going on in the Colonel's encampment. A picture of Porter entered her mind. Porter being shot. Falling. She shook her head. She couldn't think about him now or she might very well go insane. She didn't know what she would do if he got hurt. He was the one solid thing in her life.

Her feet skittered across the hard-packed mud as she made a run for it. She would be far away in seconds. Nothing would be able to hurt them. But the sight of a limp hand caught her vision. It was visible, just peaking out from behind the largest scraggly bush on the property.

Mr. Carlyle. She couldn't leave him. Even if he was dead.

Jamie turned back and hurried toward the man. The girl on her back whimpered in a high-pitched voice. "Daddy?"

Her father didn't move. He was slumped on the ground, blood running from an open wound in his stomach. And it wouldn't stop. It just kept pouring from his form. Jamie gagged out of her wolf mouth. She searched for the TryptoKeri that he should have taken to prevent this. It was still grasped within a limp hand.

Jamie sniffed him. He didn't smell of death. Not yet.

She took hold of his shirt and began to drag him away from the house, moving as fast as she could while still balancing a child on her back. It was hard to pay attention to both at the same time—and Mr. Carlyle wasn't exactly very light. Her breath was heaving heavily in her lungs.

She considered stopping as soon as they had reached the end of the property. The explosives probably wouldn't have a perimeter much farther than fifteen feet around the house. Besides, if she moved one step further, she'd be in tall yellow grass.

She couldn't risk it. She dragged Mr. Carlyle off another twenty feet. The hands gripped in her fur squeezed tighter. Finally, Jamie stopped, exhausted. No sooner than she had stopped there was a deafening explosion.

The ground exploded, kicking up great bowels of dirt. A wave of energy flew toward them. In a split second, they had been picked up and had fallen about ten feet. Heat scalded her like a sunburn. Bits of silver shrapnel stuck into her flesh. They dotted the child and her father too.

Bella began to cry softly.

Jamie cursed herself for her mistake. If only she had kept running, but she was so tired. Of course the Colonel and Doug hadn't placed the bombs in the house! They'd been in the dirt itself! Only a few days ago, that hard packed dirt had been squelching mud. It would have been easy to bury the explosives in that—and totally unpredictable.

Jamie began to change. Her form lengthened and pinkened. Her muscles withered back to those of a human form. She lost her acute senses. She suddenly felt as though she was blind and couldn't hear properly. Her ears may have been better than a human's, but they felt absolutely useless. Worst of all, her clothes were in tatters. They were luckily still clinging to her form and hiding all the important places as well as a little more.

"It hurts!" Bella was crying as blood was escaping from all of her tiny little wounds. Blood that wouldn't stop because it wouldn't clot. The silver was already reacting with Bella's bloodstream—with both of their bloodstreams.

Her eyes darted to the TryptoKeri still clutched within Mr. Carlyle's grasp. She could smell the life still clinging to him. Faintly.

Jamie hurried to his side, prying the bottle from his grasp. He held to the bottle like it was his last chance at life. It was, of course. When she had finally been able to pry the little bottle loose, she let out a triumphant little shout.

She twisted the cap, pouring a good measure into Mr. Carlyle's mouth. She was worried he wouldn't be able to swallow when unconscious. The man's throat moved reflexively as the red liquid hit the back of his throat.

Jamie sighed with relief. "He's going to be okay," she told Bella, hoping against hope that she was right. It depended on how fast the TryptoKeri reached his bloodstream in time.

She turned to the little child next, pouring the TryptoKeri into her mouth. She couldn't help looking at the child with angry disgust. How could the Colonel have treated her so horribly? Her clothes were dirty and mussed. It was hard to make out the picture of "My Little Pony" on the front anymore. The child's cheeks were streaked in dirt and tears and tiny red streaks dappled the surface of her face.

Jamie glanced at the last few drops of TryptoKeri in the bottle and hoped they would be enough. It was debatable if the small amount would even make it to her bloodstream. With a quick flick of her wrist, she downed what was rest, doing her best not to gag reflexively. The TryptoKeri tasted absolutely disgusting. It left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue.

The first thing she would do when she got home would be to scrub her tongue of this awful tasting concoction. But for now, she had to worry about the people on the hill. Her thoughts turned back to her friends, her colony, fighting the Colonel's men. She supposed it would be all right to leave Bella for a few minu—

A dark form rushed at her, knocking her from her knees to her back in one swift movement. The air burst out from her lungs upon landing. The guy pinned her easily, slipping the silver dagger to her throat.

She hadn't been paying attention. How could she have missed him stocking up on the group? She was a wolf! Things like this just didn't happen.

"For my sister," the guy said between gritted teeth.

Jamie stared up into darkly furious and lost eyes.

"Doug," she croaked.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Doug was leaning above her, panting. Not because of exertion. Jamie wasn't struggling at all. She couldn't seem to move her gaze away from the icy darkness in his eyes. He was panting purely from fury and the state he'd worked himself into.

Jamie tried not to swallow too hard as she felt the blade pressed uncomfortably against her throat. If her throat convulsed too much, she might very well end up with another cut. She had enough of them already. Dozens of tiny little cuts covered her body. Some of them still had silver embedded in their openings. She couldn't feel the TryptoKeri getting to work yet. It probably wouldn't have an effect on her at all. She had had so little.

"Doug," Jamie swallowed again. "Please don't."

At that same moment, Bella let out a wail. She gripped her tiny little hands around Doug's large wrist and tried to pry his wrist away from Jamie's throat with little effect. She was strong for one so little, but not enough to move someone as strong and furious as Doug.

"Leave her alone!" The blonde child cried. "Don't hurt her!"

Doug flicked his wrist then, nearly cutting a slice out of Jamie's throat. He put enough force behind the movement to push the tiny child backward. Bella fell on her butt with another cry. She stood up to move for him again. Jamie had to hand it to the little girl, she had guts.

Doug pointed the knife waveringly at the child. "Stay away!" he warned. "My business isn't with you."

Bella backed off. She was glad for it. She didn't want the child to get hurt and she was strangely certain that Doug wouldn't hurt Bella. Not really. Maybe he really did care about the fact that she was a child—despite what he had said.

Jamie could have fought back while he was focused on the little girl. She could have turned this situation around. With a deft move she could have flipped him onto his back. And if she twisted his wrist, the blade would be pointed at his throat instead of hers. But she didn't do it. She didn't move a muscle.

She had realized then, what this had all come down to. Her death or his. He would never be satisfied to let her live. She knew what he thought of her. She was just a shadow of the sister who had once breathed and lived. She was a mockery of his sister's death—the shell without the inside. The only things her insides carried were evil and the hunt.

She wanted to tell him that this wasn't true. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and wanted the best for him. But in the end, it would make no difference. He wouldn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth. She wasn't Jamie anymore. Not to him.

So it had come down to a final fight. She could fight him, but eventually she would have to kill him because he would keep coming back. Keep trying to kill her if he had to make a life out of it. Like the Colonel. He would live his life with one single goal and hatred would fill his soul. When he finally got what he wanted—_killed_ her—then he would be vapid. Lifeless. He'd no longer know what to do with himself, so he'd follow the same path as the Colonel.

She couldn't let that happen. Not to him. Not to her brother.

So she had to let him kill her now, while the goal was not pent up in him, destroying him. Because she knew, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't kill him. This was the boy who had protected her throughout their childhood; watched over her. He was her brother and she couldn't change that.

She _didn't want_ to change it, she thought fiercely.

Doug looked at her with disbelieving disgust. "You really are an idiot," he mocked. "You had the chance to kill me and you didn't take it."

"I _can't_ kill you," she emphasized the word.

"Don't play your mind tricks on me," he spat, pushing the blade harder into her throat.

Jamie shrugged her shoulders and turned her face away. She closed her eyes. She didn't have to see this. Besides, she could feel a faint swelling in her chest—like she would start to cry if she looked at him much longer. It was better this way. Then she couldn't see the knife threatening to sever her air passage.

"Go ahead," she offered. "Do it."

Doug's wrists slackened, the knife still resting on her. "What are you playing at?" he asked weakly. "You're already taken her from me. All of you. And now you want to torture me some more?"

Jamie looked up into those brown eyes, so very like her own. The only difference was that his brimmed with hate while hers were brimmed with tears. She loved Doug, but she really wanted to slap him right then. If she had a free hand, she would have.

"Just do it or don't do it!" she snapped. "Don't leave me in suspense!"

Slowly, Doug took in a wavering breath. "You're really going to let me, aren't you?"

Jamie didn't reply. It was hard to believe she was putting her own self in this position. If she said it out loud, it would be like admitting to her own insanity.

"Do you want to die?" Doug asked.

"No," Jamie's throat felt so utterly dry. "But I can't kill you and this seems like the only alternative."

Doug looked at her oddly, his eyes filling. "You're still in there somewhere, aren't you?"

"Loud and clear," Jamie muttered in a self-mocking way. "The wolf is barely part of me."

With a deft toss, Doug threw the silver dagger away. He slumped to the ground, letting her free. The fight seemed to have totally left him. Jamie sat, rubbing her sore throat and inspecting the little cuts that still littered her skin.

He looked so sullen, so lost. Jamie reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. He stiffened, moving back an inch.

"Doug," she sniffled, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. "It's really me."

"I know," he muttered, finally looking up at her. "I just can't get used to the idea so easily. I don't think I can be around you anymore."

Jamie swallowed. Her heart swelled again, threatening to push its way outside of her chest. "What will you do? Where will you go?"

"Don't know," he said. "But it's time I left the Colonel anyway. Maybe I'll go to school—do something with my life."

Jamie nodded eagerly. "Yes. Do that. Don't waste your life away. And if you get the chance…" her arms floundered about as she tried to finish. "If you can handle it—come and visit me. I'll miss you. You're my favorite brother, Doug."

Doug snorted derisively. "I'm your only brother."

"You know what I mean," she feigned a dark look.

They both broke out smiling hesitantly. He just sat there for a moment, as if he was trying to pluck up the courage to do something. Finally, he moved toward her jerkily. He embraced her in a stiff hug. She reached up to hug him back.

He pulled back. "I'll miss you too."

With that, he turned and left, walking away from the plot of land where the Henderson mansion had once stood. Jamie felt a sear of worry bolt across her just then. She worried that she would never see him again. And the truth was, it was a very likely possibility.

But she was happy too because Doug was finally moving on to a new stage of life. He was finally moving on to a stage where he could make a life for himself, follow his own passions and dreams. And maybe…just maybe…he could leave some of his memories behind.

She smiled as she watched his retreating back.

**To Ande and incarnated-soul and all the people who really wanted Doug to be happy.**


	25. Chapter 25

**It has come to my attention that I have not ended this story correctly. I needed to add in a part with Amber fighting, so the end has been revised it case you care to reread it. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks to Tessadragon for all her helpful hints!**

Chapter 25

Jamie couldn't leave Bella and her father alone, but she couldn't stay here either. She could hear the shots echoing up the slope. The battle was still raging. Her friends were probably getting hurt, maybe even killed. She tried to push the thought from her head as soon as it presented itself. She couldn't think about that.

She sent a frantic glance toward Bella's father, who was healing slowly, but still unconscious. It was a relief to know that he would make it. Bella was cuddled up to his unconscious form. She stared at Jamie with wide, scared eyes. Her gaze kept on darting to the noise up the hill. The sound would have been terrifying to anyone—not to mention a seven-year old girl.

Jamie bit her lip, following the girl's gaze. I should be up there right now, she thought. I should be helping them. If only she weren't such a coward. But she knew it was more than that. She had a responsibility to look after Bella. Not too long ago, she had been contemplating leaving Bella to hurry up the slope. And then Doug had appeared. As safe as it seemed in the tall grass at early evening, she could never anticipate what would happen next. She didn't know who would happen to track them down.

There was a small groan. Jamie started, turning to Bella. The groan had been too deep too belong to the child, but Jamie couldn't help but turn to her anyway—afraid Bella was going through some terrible pain. The marks on Bella's skin had fully cleared minutes before. She looked as healthy as ever, her ears pricked to the groan she had also heard.

It was more than Jamie could say for herself. Her skin was still marked by bits of silver shrapnel. It was scary to see her blood slowly leaking from her body, and her natural defenses unable to do anything about it. Her blood wasn't clotting at all. It was a good thing they weren't big cuts.

She heard the groan again and Mr. Carlyle's chest moved as a shuddering breath was taken into his lungs. He was starting to come to.

Bella sat up straighter, her hands finding their way to one of her fathers. Her eyes were wide with anticipation. "Daddy? Daddy, wake up! Daddy, it's me, Bella."

The blond man blinked slowly, blearily. He rubbed a hand over his eyes as they wandered between Jamie's and Bella's faces. After a few moments, his eyes locked on the tiny blonde girl who was gripping his larger hand excitedly. Recognition and wonder filled his eyes. "Bella?" he rasped.

"Yes, daddy!" Bella jumped into her father's arms with childlike joy. He winced slightly as her knees landed on the purple dark bruise etched across his stomach. Luckily, it wasn't bleeding anymore. Bella wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and held on for dear life. "I was so scared," she intoned. "I wanted to come home."

Mr. Carlyle hugged his daughter to him, a hand on her sweaty and tangled curls. "It's you," he said disbelievingly. "It's really you. I never thought I'd see you again."

"I love you, daddy," the little girl mumbled into his shoulder.

Jamie looked on, smiling proudly. Seeing them embrace touched her heart. This is what a real family should be like, she thought. This is what it's really about.

Mr. Carlyle smiled at her over his daughter's shoulder. "I can't tell you how thankful I am," he told her. "You've done more for me than I can ever repay."

Jamie shook her head, feeling embarrassed for the first time. She didn't want the praise. It didn't really matter to her. What mattered to her was their closeness, their warmth. Their love for each other. While living with the Carlyle's she had caught a glimpse of that—that feeling of being wanted and accepted. And yes, even having them worry about her—as inconvenient as it was at times. It meant more to her than she ever would have thought possible.

Her eyes darted back up the hill. Mr. Carlyle's eyes followed hers knowingly.

"You're not responsible for this anymore. You've done your part more than enough. For once, just be a teenager. This isn't something someone your age should have to deal with."

Jamie shook her head in disagreement. "It's my duty."

She turned to Bella's father with a pleading glance. "If I leave you two, will you be okay? Will you be able to protect yourselves?"

Mr. Carlyle was silent for a moment. Finally, he nodded resignedly. "If you must go, you must," he said. "Go prove whatever it is that you need to prove to yourself."

"Thank you," she said with a grin and took off at a quick run. She felt the strain in her muscles and in the cuts in the soles of her feet as they stubbornly refused to heal. It wasn't enough to stop her. Mr. Carlyle was right. She did have something to prove to herself. She had to prove that she could do what it took for what was right, no matter what the cost.

She could have gotten there faster if she had chosen to change to wolf, but she didn't have the energy right then. And if she was to be completely honest with herself, she would admit that she still wasn't comfortable with the transformation. It still scared her.

She thought the shots and the sound of fighting would increase as she moved closer, but they didn't. The fighting was beginning to die off. It was as she was climbing the last ridge that the shots seemed to die. The ground was almost vertical at this point. She found herself grasping on to weed that weren't firmly placed within the hillside. Clumps of dirt were being pulled up with the weeds. Jamie gripped the top of the plateau with one hand, steadying herself. She used this arm as leverage to bring her other arm up and latch on. She pulled up with her arms, wishing that she'd spent less time on reflexes and more on weight training.

She could just barely see over the lip. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat and sent her blood pulsing through her veins. There was a being at the Colonel's throat, half-human and half-wolf. They seemed to be the only moving beings on the whole plateau. Bodies were littered across the ground in a way that would have made Jamie gasp with horror if she weren't so transfixed with the sight before her.

It was clear to see the 'wolf was a weaker one. Her teeth were snapping out of her elongated face. Blonde hair whipped behind her that hadn't quite made it into her skull. Her legs were all messed up in this half form. She wobbled unsteadily as the Colonel sent a hard punch to her gut. Jamie could hear the girl gasp.

With a sudden realization, Jamie took in the half-wolf figure once more. It was Amber. She was nearly unrecognizable in her half-form with blood dripping down her muzzle. Amber threw herself at the Colonel again, jaws snapping and her half-formed claws raking. Jamie stared on in utter, paralyzed amazement. Distantly she knew she should be doing something to help, but she couldn't bring herself to move.

She knew that bullheaded look in Amber's eyes. She'd seen it many times—especially when fighting. She remembered their argument that one night. Whether Amber was right or wrong, she always won. In that case, Amber had been right. She had that look now, like a challenge was trying to overtake her and she wasn't going to stand for it.

Jamie watched with dizzying horror as the Colonel wrenched at one of her arms, pulling it into an impossible angle. Jamie thought she would hear a cry, but none came. Amber whirled on him again and just for one moment she caught the look in Amber's eyes. It was utter and pure fury.

Jamie wanted to help and hurt her just then. She could feel her body trembling with anger and fatigue. She didn't want them to kill each other. She just wanted them to be reconciled—to stop fighting. But she couldn't make that happen. And she couldn't hurt either one of them. She opted for holding on to the ledge for dear life.

Amber ripped at the Colonel with all the fury of a 120 pound teenage girl. She wasn't thinking clearly, but she was working effectively. Her claws raked across the Colonel's chest several times before he got a handle on her. He kicked her to the ground.

Jamie closed her eyes with a cringe. She didn't want to see this part. No matter how much determination Amber had, the Colonel was going to win. Pure will just wasn't enough. She took a deep breath a prepared herself to vault up onto the ledge but a sound made her stop in her tracks.

A shot echoed through the air.

Jamie refused to open her eyes as she heard a body thud to the ground. It was Amber…it must have be Amber. It's all my fault because I didn't go to help her. I didn't try to save her. Jamie let in a quick, gasping breath.

What had she done?

Then another thought entered her mind. Wait a minute…hadn't Amber already been on the ground. How could she have fallen?

She wrenched her eyelids open and let out a cry that echoed through the suddenly dark and very cold night.

She took another gasping breath. "No," she whispered.


	26. Chapter 26

**Welcome to the end of Kidnapping a Werecub—as in this _is_ the last chapter. That means you might want to review…for me? I'm writing this at three o'clock in the morning, so I hope it sounds all right. I am kind of tired. Scratch that. Really tired.**

**Thanks to all the comments made so far, I'll take them to heart. Maybe my next book will be better than this one. fingers crossed**

Chapter 26

A muscular man in his late fifties dropped to the ground. Jamie knew immediately who it was, although her brain refused to register that fact for a moment. She stared about dumfounded at all the bodies that littered the Colonel's encampment. Some of them were dead. She was sure of it. But most seemed to be hogtied and unconscious.

Amber had fallen back, gasping for breath. She was bleeding profusely in several places but there was a satisfied look on her face. She had done what Jamie could not. She dropped the gun that she must have picked up from one of the other forms. Jamie saw her waver. Amber was losing too much blood even as her wounds were healing.

As Jamie let out another soft cry, Amber turned to her. Amber's eyes changed then, her features filled with apologetic sympathy. "I'm sorry, Jamie," she croaked. "I had to do it. You know I had to."

Jamie only nodded, her eyes filling with tears. She had no idea what Amber was talking about but she looked so sad that she just had to agree with her. But Jamie was sad too. For a moment she was too shocked to realize why.

"It's okay," she whispered as she dragged herself up onto the ledge. Tremors shook her body. "You did well."

Amber only nodded with a woozy smile. Then she fell unconscious.

It was then that her brain registered who that last figure to fall had been. It was the Colonel. Her father. Her heart seized within her chest and she hurried to his side. The Colonel was staring at her, unrecognizing, his breath heaving in and out. Blood. There was so much blood.

Jamie lifted her hand to her mouth to keep from spewing her last meal. She used her other hand to rip whatever tattered material still hung at her midriff. She bunched this over the Colonel's chest, trying to slow the bleeding. It soaked her hands and she cried. There was nothing she could do and she knew it. The wound would be fatal.

The Colonel's eyes finally snapped on her in recognition. His face strained into a murderous look. "You," he managed to rasp. "I hate you. You betrayed us. You betrayed your mother. You betrayed the whole human race."

"But I love you," Jamie managed to choke out over her tears.

The Colonel only sent her a darkly troubled look before coughing up blood. The bullet must have punctured one of his lungs. His chest heaved again, as he attempted to take hold of a full breath. "I…" he managed on a whispered breath, "Will…never forgive you."

Jamie cried hard after that. She watched as he too his last shuddering breath and his eyes blinked out sightlessly. Maybe it was a fitting end for such a horrible man, but it didn't make her feel any better. Now she was crying not for the man he was, but the man he used to be. The man he should have been.

An insight happened upon her and she was able to slowly dry her tears. He had spent so much time trying to find a meaning to his life. In truth, the real he had died the moment her mother had. Keeping him alive after that was just dragging along the pain—pulling his life out needlessly. He had only stuck around to hurt others.

But now he could finally rest. And maybe—just maybe—he could find some peace.

Jamie took one final, shuddering breath and dried the last of her tears. She wouldn't cry over him anymore. This was one book she was closing for good. If she was to remember her father, she would remember him from before.

She glanced around for her companions of the last few days. Mrs. Carlyle was slowly getting to her feet in human form. A gash across her stomach was healing quickly. The other werewolves were beginning to arise right and left, sore and tired but alive. They all appeared to be there. Jamie started to do a head count, but her eyes became riveted on one figure that was slowly sitting up on his elbows, his blond hair tousled and streaked with blood. He was okay. He really was okay.

Jamie ran to Porter, pouncing on him. He fell back to the ground with an oof. "Ouch," he managed to say, his face straining.

"Sorry!" Jamie exclaimed, but she didn't move away. It was still so hard to believe he was there, alive and well. She wanted to touch him, hold him to make sure he didn't disappear. Her hands fluttered along his shoulders and up to his face and through his hair. He was there. All of him.

And then they were kissing. His lips found hers and he took her into an embrace she never wanted to leave. She was safe here. Protected. Loved. She could feel his emotions caressing her with a demanding worry which finally appeased into gentle comfort. She just wanted to bask in his emotions and she nearly wanted to forget the real world existed. It could never be so real, so vivid.

The doctor managed to tug her away long enough to force feed some TryptoKeri down her throat. She nearly gagged the stuff back up again.

She moved back to Porter's side, leaning into his shoulder. "You know," she said after a while, "you should really speak to Lacey. She thinks that you would as soon as kill her if she blabbed."

Porter sighed. "I don't think she'd let me talk to her if I tried."

"But we have to try," Jamie replied urgently. This was really important to her. "I'll help you. We have to make it better."

"All right," Porter agreed, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin. "We'll try. I suppose that's all anybody can do."

She nodded into his neck, trying not to think about how close his throat was to her mouth. Now was not the time for biting. While they were basking in each other's company, the others were discussing what to do about their captives. Slowly, Jamie got to her feet, pulling Porter up with her. It was time to get to work.

**The end! Hope you liked it. I've been thinking about writing a second book with the same characters. I would like some input on who you think the main character should be for the next book. Jamie again? Doug? Leigh? Porter? Amber? Alec? If you send me a review, you could add which one you want to be the main character in the review. Also, some constructive criticism would be helpful too. Thanks for reading!**

**-Polished Gem**


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